A Love Story
by AB83
Summary: Liza and Charles: A love story for the ages
1. Chapter 1

A/N: This story is an attempt to flesh out and expand all the moments that Liza and Charles shared over the course of 5 seasons as they fell in love. I have attempted to weave it around what was actually shown to us and provide some 'extra' material to elaborate their story and trace their journey through their beautiful relationship. My idea is to set each episode where they shared moments of note as separate chapters. I hope you enjoy it :) I certainly loved writing it. This chapter is where it all began... Season 1, episode 5.

Disclaimer: I don't own Younger, any of its characters or their scripts and stories.

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Chapter 1

Liza walked to the conference room behind Diana, clutching a notepad and pen.

"I need you to be on your game today Liza" Diana had barked at her moments earlier.

The Empirical boss was going to be in office today, Diana had a huge crush on him and Liza was going to be chief note-taker at this meeting while Diana was busy flirting with this man.

She saw him the moment she stepped through the conference room door. Charles Brooks – owner and CEO of Empirical Press.

He was hard to miss and for a moment her breath caught in her throat. He was an incredibly attractive man, broad shouldered, standing a foot above everyone else in the room, wearing a beautiful navy suit, looking tall and important.

Charles surveyed the room, looking at all the familiar faces of his small but successful publishing company, when his eyes fell upon someone he hadn't seen before.

An unfamiliar but beautiful face, studiously bent over a notepad clutched in her hands. He felt a little surge of something, he wasn't quite sure what, course through his veins as he watched the tall, leggy girl with wavy brown locks hurry into the room behind Diana. It was a strange feeling, one he hadn't felt… well, certainly not in a long time.

He shook his head to clear his mind and focus on the meeting. He could feel Diana smiling broadly as she hurried to grab the chair closest to him. So with one last look around the room, he smiled and started speaking.

Liza saw Charles glance briefly at her with his piercing blue eyes. She felt a little flutter in the pit of her stomach, which she didn't quite know what to make of. But Diana was gesturing to her to move to the back of the room and she quickly started taking notes as Charles began the meeting.

"So Hollywood is finally starting to recognise Chinua Achebe's work…" He had the deepest voice Liza had ever heard and she could feel it reverberate in the room and through her body.

It was a strange sensation, one she didn't have the time to think about because suddenly Kelsey was at her elbow, whispering about something called a goddess cup being stuck.

Liza was reluctant to leave the room, and weirdly reluctant to leave this man who she had never even met before, yet somehow felt a strange connection to. But Kelsey was sounding more and more desperate and Liza quickly followed her to the bathroom.

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Charles sat in Diana's office, trying hard to ignore her repeated attempts to slide closer to him on the couch. "I am really excited about this repackage. Have you read Achebe?"

"I'm sure I have," replied Diana unconvincingly, as she crossed her legs and cocked her head at Charles.

Diana Trout was an excellent head of marketing, and Charles knew just how valuable she was to his company. In fact, he greatly respected her as a professional. But her very poorly disguised attempts at flirting always made him uncomfortable. When he was still married, Diana had kept her distance. But judging by the way she had found any excuse to touch him today, he guessed that she knew about his impending divorce.

He was trying to stay professional, doggedly focused on the Achebe trilogy, when the attractive brown haired girl from the meeting came rushing into the room, holding a large box of food. And suddenly, inexplicably, once again he was drawn to this stranger, who he assumed was Diana's new assistant.

"Things Fall Apart is one of my favourite books," he said, glancing back at Diana. "I actually think its required reading now in high school."

"It is" Liza broke in, smiling at Charles. She could feel Diana glare at her from the couch. But Charles was smiling back at her and Liza found that she couldn't look away.

"Oh yeah? Have you read it?" He was a little surprised that a young assistant would be familiar with Chinua Achebe's work.

"Uh yeah, I read the entire trilogy. I couldn't put it down," Liza could feel herself grinning widely at Charles, strangely proud of being able to show off to him.

"Yes, the trilogy is ground breaking" Diana butted in, but in that moment it was as though she had faded into the background… everything else seemed blurry as Charles and Liza looked at one another, each sizing the other up, trying to make sense of the connection they both clearly felt.

It was Diana's sharp as a dagger glare that broke their eye contact as Charles reluctantly turned towards her.

"Oh, so you have read Achebe? What's your favourite?" he asked as Liza began setting out the food. He kept his gaze consciously averted lest he ended up staring at the young office assistant again, which was inappropriate on so many levels.

"Of the trilogy? Oh, well… umm. Probably the… uh… second book," said Diana after a long, awkward pause.

"No Longer At Ease" jumped in Liza, sensing that Diana had no clue what she was talking about.

"Then put the box down" snapped Diana, glaring at her assistant for butting in again.

"Is a great title for the second book don't you think?" Liza said through gritted teeth. She turned to Charles and smiled as their eyes locked. And both once again felt a sudden shift in atmosphere, as they focused solely on each other. "About a man, caught between two worlds. Adichie's Americanah comes close to capturing that experience but nothing measures up to Achebe."

Charles couldn't help but stare. But this time it wasn't the attractive face that drew him to her but the incredible poise, knowledge and level of articulation that this young woman had just displayed. He was intrigued. He rarely met people who were so confident discussing African literature, let alone someone whose literary taste seemed so much in sync with his. His bookworm heart did a little dance.

"You're very well read. I'm impressed" Charles smiled at Liza, and felt a little thrill course through him when he was rewarded with another megawatt grin. He was acting like a teenager with a crush and he was starting to feel very foolish.

"You know what I'm not impressed with? Is the state of this cod. It's freezing. Take that on your way out" snapped Diana holding out her paper napkin, forcing Liza to look away from Charles. As she got busy grabbing the dirty tissue, she could feel his intense gaze on her the entire time, his eyes boring into her. And her knees felt distinctly wobbly as she hurried out of the room.

Charles found himself unable to look away from her, feeling faintly annoyed at Diana's tone and strangely protective towards this young woman, whose name he still didn't know. His eyes followed her all the way out of the room and back to her desk as he hurriedly muttered, "Thank you" when he realised Diana wasn't going to.

The room felt weirdly empty as she exited and he had to take a deep breath to clear his head. He was clearly oxygen deprived or something. _'You're a 45 year old, almost divorced, father of two Charles,'_ he mentally chastised himself as he focused once again on what Diana was saying.

Liza sat down at her desk and stared fixedly at the computer screen. Why was she feeling so drawn to this man? True, he was one of the most handsome men she had ever laid eyes on. He was extremely well read, which had always been a turn on for her. But he was her boss. The _company's_ boss. A company that she was lying to. Plus, she had Josh and with him she was living this exciting new, 'young', albeit false, life.

She shook her head. It was extremely inconvenient that Charles Brooks should be having the effect he was having on her.

She smoothed the front of her dress down and tried to calm the tumult in the pit of her stomach. But as Charles exited Diana's room, she caught his eye, and the smile and deep look he gave her made her resolve go to shit and she was glad she was sitting down because her legs had suddenly turned to jelly.

' _Snap out of it, Liza'_ she said to herself as he disappeared from view. She would probably have little to do with him, she reasoned, she being an assistant and he being the owner of the company. _'Out of sight, out of mind,'_ she told herself as she began typing on her keyboard.


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: Second chapter in quick succession because I wrote the first two one after the other. There will be a bit of a gap before the next one. This one is set in Season 1, Episode 7 where Liza meets Charles at the club where she is moonlighting. Once again, this story is a humble attempt to flesh out and expand all the moments that Liza and Charles shared over the course of 5 seasons as they fell in love. I have attempted to weave it around what was actually shown to us and provide some 'extra' material to elaborate their story and trace their journey through their beautiful relationship. Hope you enjoy :) And thank you for the reviews for the previous chapter.

Disclaimer: I don't own Younger, any of its characters or their scripts and stories.

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Chapter 2

Liza gritted her teeth as she followed the cocky young man through the loud, dark, pulsating club. To say she felt uncomfortable was an understatement… she was dressed in a sequined purple, what could really only be described as a strapless one-piece bathing suit, cut so high up her thigh that she felt grateful to Maggie for forcing her to splurge on a waxing session this past weekend.

As Rakim droned on about the app that this party was being thrown for, something called Getcha BuzzOn, she had to stop herself from rolling her eyes. The things she was forced to do to earn some extra cash… but she needed it and this was still waaay better than selling her used underwear. She shuddered at the memory.

But, this was all for her daughter, and she would do anything for Caitlin. After all, if she could drop her age by over a decade to get a job, then a little thigh show in a whorey outfit at some crazy millennial party for an app that made buying a drink more complicated than needed, should be a cakewalk. Or so she hoped as Rakim hooked a large tray with luridly coloured cocktails around her neck.

She flinched when he slapped her ass as she walked passed him. These were the times she really wondered whether it was worth pretending to be 26 years old and suffering through this humiliation, when she could be 41 years old and sitting at home having a nice evening, drinking wine with Maggie. _'For Caitlin, Liza. You're doing this for Caitlin'_ she told herself and that strengthened her resolve as she marched out and began serving drinks.

A few feet away, Charles tapped his hands awkwardly on his thighs to a song he had never heard, that was far too loud for his liking, at a club that was too dark, too crowded and definitely too young for someone like him. He looked around, feeling completely out of place. He was really regretting his decision to come here tonight when he suddenly saw a familiar face. A face that brought an instant smile to his.

As Liza turned away from some young party goers, she froze. _'Oh my god!'_ she had spotted a familiarly tall, handsome, broad shouldered man, standing not too far away from her. She whipped around, too embarrassed to be seen at this ridiculous party, in these ridiculous clothes by her very good looking, extremely intelligent boss.

But she wasn't quick enough.

"I know you. You work for Diana Trout." His husky tone making the blood rush a little quicker through her veins.

Liza grimaced at having been caught as she turned to face him with a slightly sheepish grin on her face.

Charles could see she looked embarrassed and he felt the overwhelming urge to reassure her that she had nothing to be ashamed about. He appreciated someone trying to earn an honest buck. He was also trying very hard not to let his eyes wander down to those long, long legs that were on full display in the shiny, and tiny, costume she was wearing. Staring determinedly at her face, he smiled reassuringly.

Liza felt a little better as she looked into his eyes and saw no judgement or mockery in them. She grinned and held up her tray to him. "Buzzy navel?" she said, feeling more ridiculous than ever.

"Oh… uh… yeah," he chuckled softly as he lifted a glass with shockingly orange coloured liquid off the tray. He took a big gulp of the drink and Liza had to stifle a laugh as he almost gagged on the god awful cocktail.

She couldn't quite explain why she felt so comfortable around him. Why she wanted to be there, despite the ridiculous way she was dressed, and continue a conversation with this man. In fact, after feeling awkward and insecure all evening dressed the way she was, this was the first time she felt safe and confident and she found herself moving a little closer to him, leaning in to hear what he was saying.

Charles was suddenly feeling… strangely happy? Yes, happy to have bumped into the attractive young woman from his office. He couldn't quite grasp why he was so keen to talk to her or why she was giving him a warm, fuzzy feeling. Or maybe that was the drink in his hand, which was more alcohol than anything else.

"So what brings you out to this fabulous bash?" she asked looking around, unable to keep the irony out of her voice and stopping just short of rolling her eyes.

Charles felt a little better about feeling awkward at the party. If a young woman like her seemed to think this whole thing was bizarre then it was no wonder that he felt like an alien amid earthlings.

"Oh, uh a friend of mine is an investor." He could have just stopped there. He _should_ have just stopped there. But he felt this strange need to keep going.

"Also, just trying to get out there more. Expand my comfort zone, since my divorce."

That was unexpected. It was completely unlike him to spill his guts to anyone, let alone someone he barely knew. He couldn't figure it out. Something about her made him want to just keep talking. There was a strange affinity with her and it was the weirdest feeling because what could he, a 40-plus, almost divorced father have in common with a 20-something, attractive, single woman?

And yet, there he was. Telling her about his divorce, telling her that he was pushing himself to meet new people… to meet women. He hadn't even told his friends that. It had been an internal conversation he'd had with himself all evening while getting ready for the party. And all it had taken was two minutes with this woman, and he had let it all hang out.

' _Well done Charles,'_ he thought, _'she's going to think you're the neediest old geezer she's ever met.'_

But once again, like in Diana's office the other day, she caught him completely off guard with her next few words. "Those first few months are tough. I totally understand."

Liza wanted to clamp her mouth shut as soon as the words came out.

"Uh… I mean not… I don't understand like personally. But I've read… uh… many novels with divorced characters," she stuttered, trying to recover quickly.

' _What's wrong with you Liza?'_ she mentally slapped herself. _'Just blab your entire life story to him why don't you.'_ She shook her head.

Talking to Charles Brooks was dangerous. It was as though she had no control over herself when she was around him and words just tumbled out of her mouth without her knowing what she was saying. His blue eyes were looking deeply into hers and her knees were feeling wobbly once again. Boy, did he have an intense gaze. It was like he could see right through to her very soul and she was starting to feel all gooey inside.

' _Okay enough Liza,'_ she thought, shaking herself out of the strange trance she seemed to be going into as she saw him reach for another glass on her tray.

Charles held out the second glass to her. "Well, here's to a bright future. And fewer parties like this one. For both of us," he added, smiling softly at her.

Liza almost felt herself reaching for the glass, just to be able to brush her fingers against his. But she held back. "Sorry. I can't drink on the job," she said, almost regretfully.

It would have felt like a shutdown, except that she said it with the sweetest smile on her face and a hint of regret in her eyes. Charles found himself grinning back at her as he tried to figure out what to do with the two glasses in his hands.

There was a moment of silence between them and he suddenly realised he must look like an ape staring at her. Correction… an aged, grinning, staring ape. So he quickly wiped the smile off his face and tried frantically to think of what to say next.

' _Crack a joke, Charles,'_ he told himself. _'Crack a joke before she thinks you're a perverted old man, trying to hit on her while she works.'_

He cleared his throat and mumbled, "Unless you work in editorial."

' _Oh good job Charles,'_ he had to stop himself from rolling his own eyes at that.

Liza held back a giggle. It was such a bad joke and for a second he looked so abashed at having cracked it that she felt the overwhelming urge to hug him. But she checked herself and chuckled politely, "Uh huh, okay."

With one last smile at him, still confused about why he was making her feel all mushy inside, she turned around and… CRASH!

She had just smacked right into Rakim and sent her tray of BuzzOn cocktails flying everywhere. She was mortified, less so by her clumsiness, and more because she could sense Charles behind her. A dripping wet Rakim was glaring at her and all she could do was duck her head and rush away from there as fast as her long legs could carry her.

Charles was torn between the urge to laugh, and worry that she might have hurt herself. He looked around for a table to put down those two darned cocktail glasses he was still clutching so that he could check on her. But when he turned back, she had disappeared from sight.

He didn't see her for the next half hour. And so, disappointed he decided to give up and leave. As he rode home in his car, he stared out of the window, a faint smile playing on his lips. The evening hadn't been the total disaster he had feared it would be.

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Liza trudged up the stairs to the loft, groaning as she turned the key in the lock. Her feet were killing her, her head was pounding and her arms and legs were still sticky from all those sugary sweet cocktails she'd spilled everywhere. But worst of all, her ego was bruised, her self-respect was shot to pieces and she hadn't even earned any money off of it! All she wanted was a long shower and her comfortable bed.

"Ooooh honey. You look awful," Maggie looked up at her from the couch where she was lounging with some art catalogues, a glass of wine in hand.

"I feel even worse," moaned Liza as she flopped down next to her roommate.

"Here you go sweetie. There's nothing in the world a little wine can't cure," Maggie handed her the glass of red.

"How about total and abject humiliation?" muttered Liza, sipping the wine gratefully.

"That bad huh?" Maggie said sympathetically as Liza laid her head on the back of the sofa.

"Charles was there," murmured Liza as she chugged down the rest of the wine and held the glass out for more.

Maggie reached for the bottle and began pouring, "Ruggedly handsome, sex on toast, _boss man_ Charles who you told me about the other day?"

"I don't believe I used the words rugged or sex on toast," said Liza rolling her eyes.

"Sure," chuckled Maggie. "I just embellished a little, based on the googly eyes you made when you were describing him."

"I did _not_ make googly eyes or whatever you call it," huffed Liza.

"Anyway, he was there. I was in a ridiculously sequined and tiny costume, serving drinks…"

"Mmm… I bet he appreciated the tiny costume," laughed Maggie, pouring a glass of wine for herself.

Liza glared at Maggie over the top of her rapidly emptying wine glass. "He was probably thoroughly embarrassed that an employee of his was degrading herself at some ridiculous club wearing ridiculous clothes and serving… uh huh… _spilling_ ridiculous drinks."

"Aaah… that's why you've brought in this strange sickly sweet smell with you. I was wondering what that was," grinned Maggie.

Liza groaned and flung her head backwards, staring up at the ceiling.

Maggie chuckled sympathetically and threw an arm around Liza. "What's bugging you honey? That you had a crappy evening at a crappy job? Or that Charles saw you on this crappy evening, doing the crappy job?"

Liza looked at her from the corner of her eye and shook her head. "I'm not sure Mags," she sighed. "I get such a strange feeling when I'm around Charles. I feel so comfortable, so safe, so… _at home_."

Liza rubbed her eyes tiredly. "It makes no sense. I don't know him. I haven't spent more than twenty minutes with the man!"

Maggie sat quietly, her arm still around Liza's shoulders.

"And… and I'm with Josh! I like him. He's fun. He's exciting. He…"

"…thinks you're 26," said Maggie quietly.

"But so does Charles," argued Liza.

"True," acknowledged Maggie with a nod. "But with Charles you have a clean slate. You can start over, explore things with him, figure out _why_ he makes you feel like this. And if it doesn't work out, you can just close that chapter and move on to the next one. No pun intended," Maggie chuckled.

"And what about my job? Charles would probably fire me if he knew I lied about my age. I can't date him anyway if he's my boss. No… no," Liza stood up, banging the wine glass down on the table. "I've just got to get a hold of myself."

"Yup… just gotta get a hold of myself," Liza muttered to herself as she walked away absentmindedly.

Maggie rolled her eyes as she watched Liza drag herself to her bedroom. _'Girl's got it bad and she doesn't even know it,'_ she thought as she grabbed the art catalogues again and poured herself another glass of wine.

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Charles wandered through the office the next day, catching himself looking out for her. He told himself it was only because he wanted to make sure she hadn't hurt herself after the crash last night and that the guy who hired her hadn't given her a hard time about spilling all those drinks on his suit. Yep, that's what he told himself.

He spotted her talking to Kelsey, and he could feel the grin spread across his face as he strode towards her, drawn to her like magnet.

As Kelsey walked away, Liza looked up and saw Charles heading towards her. She wanted to turn and run, too embarrassed by all of last night. But she was trapped. So she smiled bravely and took a deep breath as he drew closer.

"I saw your spill last night."

Liza grimaced and blushed.

"I, uh, think you'd better stick to publishing, just saying," chuckled Charles softly, not wanting her to feel awkward or embarrassed.

Liza grinned up at him, feeling a little better. Once again, his gentle voice and mere presence making her feel strangely safe and confident.

"Well, as long as I still get to wear hot pants in the office." She froze as soon as the words left her mouth.

' _Did you just flirt with your boss Liza?!'_ Clearly she'd completely lost her mind.

"Only on casual Fridays," grinned Charles, without missing beat.

Liza laughed, a little awkwardly, still in shock that she had just talked about wearing hot pants, _to her boss_. As Charles turned towards his office, Liza almost sank to the floor in relief.

This was getting out of hand. She _had_ to get a hold of herself.

' _Liza, he is sexy. He is gorgeous. He is incredibly intelligent. He has the sort of voice that could melt your insides,'_ she told herself. _'He is also your boss. He is also way out of your league. And you need to pull yourself together. C'mon, you can do it.'_

She glanced at his retreating back, those broad shoulders, encased in that impeccable suit and sighed. Sure… she could do it.


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: Here goes the third chapter... set before, during and after the much loved babysitting scene! Once again, this story is a humble attempt to flesh out and expand all the moments that Liza and Charles shared over the course of 5 seasons as they fell in love. It is woven around what we actually got to see, expanded with their thoughts and feelings with some 'extra' material to elaborate their story and trace their journey through this lovely relationship. Hope I have done this beautiful moment of theirs justice. Enjoy :) And thank you for the reviews for the previous chapter.

Disclaimer: I don't own Younger, any of its characters or their scripts and stories.

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Chapter 3

Liza rushed through the office behind Diana who was firing questions at her at rapid speed. It was the night of the PEN Awards and her boss was all aflutter. And that made Liza's life hell.

"Did you get everything on the list?" snapped Diana.

Liza hurried to keep up with her. "I got your fake eyelashes, and your spanx and…"

"Shhhh…" interrupted Diana. "Charles!"

Liza felt her stomach flutter as the Empirical boss' tall form suddenly loomed up in front of them. _'Now Liza, keep a hold of yourself,'_ she muttered to herself, knees feeling distinctly weak again.

"Hi, Diana," said Charles and then turned towards Liza and smiled. "And, uh, Liza right?"

Liza felt her insides liquefy instantly. The way her name rolled off his tongue, in that deep, husky, manly voice. She swallowed and grinned at him stupidly as her brain went to mush.

"Right!" was all she managed.

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Liza walked up to the beautiful brownstone and knocked nervously. She was annoyed when Diana had interrupted her much needed wine night with Maggie to order her to babysit Charles' kids. But she had to admit, she was a little excited to be at his house, to see him again, even if it was going to be very briefly before he went out for the evening.

She drew in a quick breath when he opened the door, standing tall and handsome, dressed in a black tux with a perfectly tied black bow tie.

"Liza… Hi," said Charles smiling as he stepped back to let her in.

She opened her mouth to speak but no sound came out. So she settled for following him quietly with a goofy grin on her face.

Charles was surprised when Diana had volunteered her assistant as his babysitter and was feeling guilty about having taken up Liza's evening. But truth be told, he was also a little excited to have her in his home.

Liza looked around at his gorgeous, and enormous, home as she walked up the stairs, wondering whether the elegance and beauty of it was the handiwork of his ex-wife or whether it reflected his own impeccable taste.

She suddenly noticed two glum little girls sitting side by side on the staircase. She felt a little wave of affection for them, as they sat there in their pajamas, clearly unhappy that their dad was going out for the night.

"Hi, I'm Liza," she said gently, knowing from experience just how to deal with shy little girls.

"This is Bianca. That's Nicole," said Charles with a soft smile, trying to coax them to talk.

Looking at his silent daughters, he was starting to feel even worse about leaving them. Just as he was debating whether to cancel his plans, he saw Liza crouch down in front of them so that she was at eye level.

As she began a conversation about Polly Pockets, he watched her admiringly, marvelling at how gently and effortlessly Liza drew his normally shy and reserved children out. His heart swelled with affection as he watched the three of them interact.

Before Liza knew it, the girls had grabbed her by the hand and were arguing excitedly about whose playroom she should go to first. She laughed as she followed them up the stairs, turning around once to look down reassuringly at Charles. She felt gratified at the expression on his face… a mixture of relief, admiration and joy spread across his handsome features.

Her heart did a little flip when he grinned up at her as the girls dragged her upstairs.

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Charles chuckled at the video Liza had sent him. His girls dressed as zombies, pretending to eat Liza's brains while she yowled in mock pain. He felt a strange sensation in his chest, like the icy grip around his heart was loosening its hold.

He suddenly had visions of evenings spent with his daughters and Liza, playing games, toys spread everywhere, rolling on the floor in fits of laughter. And a wave of happiness washed over him.

A loud burst of applause around him brought him out of his daydream and he shook his head at his foolishness.

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They sat across from each other, glasses of whiskey in their hands, talking softly. Charles had returned from the awards and poured them both a drink, feeling faintly surprised when she'd wanted his scotch and not a 'younger' beverage.

Liza felt a little flutter low down in her stomach every time he spoke, his voice made even huskier by the soft tones he was using. He had undone his bow-tie and it was all Liza could do to not reach out and run her fingers over that bare spot at the hollow of this throat that was now visible in an enticing 'v' above his shirt.

There was a strange atmosphere of intimacy in the room, and it was oddly unsettling. They smiled a little awkwardly at each other.

"The girls were angels tonight," said Liza.

Charles sighed, "This divorce has been rough on them."

The expression on his face broke Liza's heart. She could hear the worry in his voice and she could identify with his fear… the crippling fear of screwing up your child because your marriage was screwed up. And his children were much younger than Caitlin had been when she separated from David.

She stopped herself from reaching out and holding his hand.

"Well, you must be doing something right," she said gently, hoping it would reassure him.

Charles smiled. It was sweet how she was trying to make him feel better and it sent a strange warmth through his heart to hear the concern in her voice. He knew there was no way she could understand what he was going through but he appreciated her reassurance nonetheless.

He shrugged, taking a sip of his drink, "It's a mess,"

Liza nodded sympathetically, wishing she could tell him that she understood, that she knew what it was like to have a spouse who let you down.

She suddenly grinned, trying to lighten the atmosphere. "That's okay. Messes make people interesting. The messier the better."

Charles grinned back at her.

"Name any great artist," she challenged him.

"Uh… Beethoven," he said after thinking for a moment.

"Alcoholic father," pat came the reply.

"Kurt Vonnegut."

Liza grabbed her phone, "Searching… Keep going."

"Jonathan Franzen."

"Oooh… Messy divorce," she said, chuckling.

"Woody Allen."

"Uh… Please!" she rolled her eyes.

Charles chuckled, thoroughly enjoying this unexpected and witty repartee. That it was happening with a 26 year old was not lost on him. She really continued to amaze him.

"Vonnegut!" Liza suddenly exclaimed. "Mom committed suicide," she said grinning triumphantly.

Charles found himself grinning back at her. "So now we're taking pleasure in other people's misery?" he asked, laughing softly to let her know that he was only joking.

Liza shook her head, "No. We're taking solace in other people's misery. And we should do it frequently in order to maintain our sanity."

Charles felt his eyebrows shoot up into his head. For a second he was speechless.

"You sure you're twenty six?" he asked in wonderment.

Liza froze, before giggling uncomfortably and squirming in her seat. _'Shit!'_ she thought. _'Shit, shit!'_

Her phone buzzing was a welcome distraction and she quickly grabbed it, reading the text from Josh.

"A friend's walking me home," she said, as she started gathering her things.

Charles felt a wave of disappointment wash over him at the thought of the evening ending. He felt an overwhelming desire to ask her to stay. To pour her another drink. To name more great artists and have her tell him why their lives were messy. To listen to her soft voice as she amazed him, again and again, with the wisdom and depth of knowledge she possessed.

' _Get it together Charles,'_ he admonished himself as they both rose and smiled, awkwardly, uncertainly. Both hesitating, as if wanting to say something more.

Was he imagining things or did she look reluctant to leave too?

Liza hovered, making small talk, grasping for things to say to him so that she could keep the conversation going. It was as if she was silently willing him to ask her to stay. She would've said yes in a heartbeat.

"You don't want to keep your young man waiting," she heard him say and that jolted her back to reality.

' _Young man?'_ For a second there her brain didn't register what he was talking about. And then realising he was referring to the text from Josh, she ducked her head and looked embarrassed.

' _He doesn't know you're 40 years old Liza,'_ she told herself. But she couldn't help it. It was as though she didn't want him to think there was anyone else in her life.

Charles looked at her expectantly, a faint, ridiculous hope rising in his chest that she was going to deny that there was a young man. A foolish desire that she would somehow abandon her plans of walking home with this 'friend' and sit with him a little longer.

He tried to tell himself that he didn't feel disappointed when the denial didn't come. He really tried.

And as she walked away from him after a softly muttered "good night," he was still racking his brains for a way to get her to stay. Just for a minute more. A minute more of him being able to enjoy her presence, to feel the oddly wonderfully warm sensation he had felt all evening with her.

"Wait," she heard him say as she reached the stairs. And her heart leapt. He was going to ask her to stay. _'Please let him ask me to stay,'_ she prayed.

She turned towards him, heart in her mouth, knees wobbly as per usual.

But the flicker of hope in her eyes turned quickly to disappointment when she saw him holding out money… her fee for the night of babysitting.

' _Foolish girl,'_ she mentally scolded herself.

He thought he saw a flash of something on her face as he held out the dollar bills… Disappointment? Could it be?

Her fingers brushed his as she took the money and they both started at the jolt of electricity that shot through them.

Their eyes met and held for a moment. Neither spoke as the atmosphere around them shifted. It was unspoken but it was there. The faint stirrings of desire, the inexplicable urge to keep talking, to stay near each other.

Liza reluctantly broke the silence. "Thank you," she said smiling softly at him. "I'll see you at work."

' _Walk away Liza,'_ she thought as she willed her feet to listen to her brain. _'Walk away now before you do something you regret.'_

Charles watched her leave, resisting every fibre in his being that ached to ask her to stop.

She turned and smiled at him from the top of the staircase and his breath caught in his throat.

' _Stop. Stay. Just for a little while,'_ said his brain.

But "Good night" is all that came out of his mouth.

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Liza lay in bed, thinking about her evening and her conversation with Charles. She'd had a lovely time with his girls, who were just adorable and reminded her of Caitlin at that age. And afterwards she'd enjoyed even more just sitting and chatting with Charles. It had felt so easy, so comfortable, so _right._

She could almost picture them doing this every evening – lounging around with glasses of scotch, discussing books, authors, literary greats, the classics, exchanging witty banter, swapping likes and dislikes… She imagined they would never run out of things to talk about.

She'd never felt a connection like this with anyone before. With David, it had been boring… comfortable, but boring. They didn't have much in common apart from a shared home and child. With Josh… well, if she was honest, there certainly wasn't any intellectual connection there.

But Charles… he brought her to life. He challenged her mind, made her think, pushed her intellectual limits and made her want to push his too.

And it wasn't just her mind that he stimulated… She felt her entire body tingle whenever he looked at her. She could drown in the deep blue pools of his eyes if she allowed it. When he said her name in that deep baritone of his, she felt like she could melt on the spot if she'd let go. If she allowed her mind to wander, she could imagine his hands trailing down her body, leaving her aching and greedy for more. If she gave in to her fantasies, she could picture him kissing her, deep and intense, his large hands buried in her hair, his lips crushing hers.

Her phone buzzed loudly, jolting her out of the fantasy. She could feel herself blushing as she fumbled for the device on her bedside table.

 _[Charles]_ _The little zombies woke up briefly when I checked on them and wanted me to tell you that you are their new favourite babysitter. Thank you again, Liza._

Liza found herself grinning widely.

 _It was my pleasure,_ she typed back. And then remembering how worried he had looked about his kids, she added, _And Charles, you really are doing a great job with them._

Charles had just climbed into bed when his phone buzzed. He grabbed it and saw Liza's name flash on the screen, surprised that she was still up. Her words touched something deep in his heart. Her reassurance about his children brought him a strange sense of comfort. As if her opinion was what mattered most to him.

He smiled softly at his phone and started typing, _Thank you for that Liza. It means a lot. It's been rough and I'm doing the best that I can. But I always worry that it just isn't enough. Single parenting certainly isn't for the faint of heart._

He re-read his message and marvelled again at just how much he felt comfortable revealing to her. His friends, his wife, always accused him of being a closed book, of shutting down whenever things got tough. Yet here he was… pouring it all out to someone who he'd only just met.

He hesitated but only for a moment before hitting send. With a sigh, he lay back, not expecting her to reply. _'She probably already regrets having texted you back Charles'_ he thought as he closed his eyes.

The three dots had appeared almost as soon as Liza had pressed send and she settled back against her pillows, feeling a little thrill run through her that he wanted to keep texting.

She read his reply and her heart went out to him. She suddenly felt the urge to hold him, to tell him it will be alright, to reassure him that it got better with time, that his girls would love him no matter what and most importantly, that he needed to spend enough time healing himself too.

She felt frustrated and helpless that she couldn't say any of this. So she took a deep breath and typed out a quote from the depths of her memory that she hoped would convey all that she wanted to say.

 _[Liza]_ _It's easier to build strong children than to repair broken men._

Charles' eyes flew open when he heard the phone vibrate again and he grabbed at it like a desperate man.

He felt his breath constrict and his heart expand when he read what she'd written.

' _Frederick Douglass!'_ he marvelled. Was there no end to the knowledge that lay in her beautiful brain? How did such a young woman possess so much depth and understanding? And for the second time that evening he found himself wondering if she truly was 26 years old.

His fingers hovered over his phone, and he started typing, _I'll confess Liza, it's not easy. To raise my girls, run my company… There are times when I don't know what I'm doing, how I'll manage or how to even make it through the day. And the nights… the nights are the worst. Being in bed alone, when all I want is a warm body next to mine, someone whose hand I can hold, someone to talk to, to share things with._

He suddenly paused and hesitated, reading his message again. Shaking his head, he erased it all and typed out a fresh text before putting his phone aside and turning off the lights.

Liza had been staring at the three dots for quite a while now, and was starting to panic. Had she gone too far? Was that why he was taking so long to reply? Had she said too much? Was he upset that she was crossing a line? _'Stop spinning out Liza'_ she told herself as she tried to be patient.

When her phone pinged she read his words eagerly.

 _[Charles] Quoting Douglass? I'm truly impressed with you Liza. I'll ask again… are you sure you're 26? It's not often I meet young people who are so widely read. I look forward to some great conversations in the future. It's late, you should get some sleep. Thank you again for babysitting the girls._

Liza sighed, as disappointment crept through her.

' _What had you expected Liza?'_ she mentally castigated herself. _'Did you think he was going to lay his heart bare to you?'_

She lay back once again and typed, _I look forward to it too Charles. See you at the office. Good night._ She hit send and placing her phone back on the nightstand, turned out the lights.

Staring into the darkness, she willed sleep to come. Prayed for the storm in her mind to settle. And wished for the fluttering in her stomach to stop.

Charles rolled over in his bed, trying to find a comfortable spot. His mind was wandering, and it was going places that made falling asleep very difficult. Images of Liza were flashing through his brain… images that he had no business having. Sighing loudly, he plumped his pillow, a little more aggressively than he needed to and buried his face in the soft cotton.

' _Shit… This is going to be a problem,'_ was his last thought as sleep finally took over.


	4. Chapter 4

A/N: Chapter four is up... Set during the events of episodes 9 and 10 of season 1.

Once again, this story is a humble attempt to flesh out and fill in the blanks between all the moments that Liza and Charles shared over the course of 5 seasons as they fell in love. It is woven around what we actually got to see, expanded with their thoughts and feelings with some 'extra' material to elaborate their story and trace their journey through this lovely relationship. Enjoy :) And thank you for the reviews for the previous chapter.

Disclaimer: I don't own Younger, any of its characters or their scripts and stories.

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Chapter 4

Charles and Liza had managed to avoid each other for the entire week. Diana had kept Liza pretty busy and Charles had been caught up in a series of meetings relating to the company's finances.

Truth be told, he was a little relieved. The night Liza had babysat his girls had been unsettling for him. He had felt stirrings of feelings that he hadn't felt since his wife walked out on him.

His mind and soul had felt rejuvenated during the brief conversation with her, sitting in his front lounge that night. She had made him _feel_ again. She had made him want to stop being angry. She had made him come alive. More alive than he had been in a long time.

He'd fought hard with his heart and brain since that night. His heart insisted on thumping a little louder and faster whenever he saw her or heard her voice in the day. And his brain insisted on flashing images in his mind when he lay in bed at night.

So yes, he was relieved to not have had any close encounters with her. And he had resisted the urge to text her all week.

But then, one morning he had walked into his favourite breakfast place and there she was… sitting at the counter, eating French toast. His heart had picked up pace and those strange sensations in his chest had come alive again as he just stood and watched her… completely absorbed in her book, oblivious to the world around her.

' _My god, she's beautiful,'_ he'd thought. He couldn't remember ever being so turned on by a woman reading in a dinky diner before.

And losing the battle with both his heart and mind, he had walked over to her.

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If she ever were a bookworm, it was that week. Nose buried in the treasure she had found in the slush pile, she had barely looked up. Eating, walking, working, lazing… all were done with the book in front of her face.

And then she had contacted her old book club, and when their excitement over the book had proved her instincts right, she was on top of the world.

She genuinely loved the book… thrilled at having discovered this little gem in a pile of discarded manuscripts. But she knew that a little part of her, perhaps a bigger part than she cared to admit, was secretly pleased at having come good on Charles' suggestion to take a crack at the slush pile.

She couldn't wait to get to work, contact the author and then present both script and author to Charles. Couldn't wait to see the look on his face. She knew he would love the book too. Truth be told, she was a little astonished at how confident she felt in knowing his taste in literature, but a little voice inside her told her that she was on the right track. And there was a skip in her step when she walked into work the next morning.

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She could feel his eyes boring into her as Kelsey told him about The Scarf and the online 'scarf campaign' that had resulted in her desk being overrun with hundreds of scarves.

Her knees felt wobbly as he looked at her, but then this was something she was slowly getting used every time she was around him. She had even trained herself not to think about why she felt the little flutter in her stomach whenever he spoke to her. It was dangerous ground and she was steering clear of it.

Charles' heart danced a little as Liza described the novel. He loved seeing the joy in her eyes, hearing the excitement in her voice, her face all lit up. It was refreshing to see someone get so excited about a slush pile discovery. And his bookworm heart was tap, tap, tapping away in his chest. He was keeping a firm hold over the part of his heart that was thumping a little faster because of reasons that had nothing to do with the book. At least he told himself he was.

He couldn't help but smile at her growing excitement and the animated way in which she was describing her find. He ground his feet into the floor to stop himself from standing up and giving her a quick hug, just because she was displaying such childlike enthusiasm and it was so goddamn cute.

 _'Cute?!'_ He shook his head. _'Keep it together Charles.'_

He realised she'd stopped speaking and everyone was staring at him, waiting for his reaction.

He cleared his throat quickly.

"I'm, uh, impressed. Get me a copy. I'll read it tonight. And we will talk in the morning," he said, marvelling at how calm and professional his voice sounded, for all the tumult she was causing in his brain. And in his heart.

Liza felt a thrill course through her. She was almost bouncing around the room when he said that.

But when he suddenly stood up, she realised just how close he was to her. His tall, broad figure looming over her, close enough that she could smell his intoxicating cologne, mixed with something she assumed was all him. And the breath was knocked out of her.

For a second she had visions of throwing her arms around his neck and hugging him, to thank him for trusting her. Luckily, she remembered where she was.

"Nice job Liza," said Charles, and she had to stop herself from swooning and looking like a complete and utter moron.

The look she gave him went straight to his heart. And before he could give in to his desire of reaching for her, he quickly turned and walked out of the room.

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Liza lay in bed, miserable, trying to read to distract herself from the colossal disaster of her day. Every time she thought about that plagiarised novel she felt sick to her stomach. Charles hadn't said much to her about it but she had felt so stupid, so foolish to have not done a more thorough background check. She had been so proud to have brought this author to Charles, thrilled that he had liked a book that she had chosen. And then it had all gone to pieces.

Her phone buzzed on the nightstand.

 _[Charles] Oscar Wilde said - Experience is simply the name we give our mistakes… Don't be too hard on yourself, Liza._

The awful churning she had felt in her stomach all day finally started to settle. No matter what Maggie, Kelsey or Josh had told her all evening, it was Charles' words that brought her the comfort she craved.

She had felt miserable about letting him down. He had shown such faith in her abilities and to have made such a stupid mistake had been eating away at her all day.

 _[Liza] I'm so sorry Charles. I can't believe I fell for her deception. I'm sorry to have disappointed you._

Her words tugged at his heart and he felt a wave of guilt wash over him for having made her feel so bad. It hadn't been his intention to put her down or discourage her.

Suddenly Liza's phone started ringing and her heart dropped to her stomach when she saw Charles' name flash across the screen.

"Charles, hi!" she said, almost breathlessly into the phone.

"Liza." His soft voice sent shivers right down to her toes.

"Please don't think you have disappointed me in any way. These things happen. We learn and we move on," he said reassuringly.

Liza lay back against her pillows with a sigh. His words were soothing her tormented mind and she just wanted to stay in bed, listening to his gentle voice.

"Liza? Are you there?" she heard him ask and her eyes flew open. She realised she'd been quiet all this while.

"Yes, Charles. Yes. Sorry. I'm here," she said quickly.

"Listen, really… don't worry about it. Someday I'll tell you the story of the time I brought in an author who had not only been rejected by my father earlier but my dad had even sent out a memo to the entire office that we were never going to work with this guy again. And somehow I had missed it!" he chuckled, trying to lighten her mood. "Not my finest moment."

Liza laughed, trying to imagine a young Charles Brooks, rattled and embarrassed by his goof up in front of his publisher father.

"Thank you Charles," she said, feeling better than she had all day. "Maybe I'll finally be able to get some sleep now."

"Hey, at least her plagiarised book wasn't vampire porn," grinned Charles.

Liza laughed again, and the sound gladdened his heart.

"Good night Liza," he said, still chuckling. "See you at the office."

"Good night Charles," she said softly, reluctant to hang up but with no valid reason to stay on.


	5. Chapter 5

A/N: Apologies for the delay in posting this. I have been extremely busy. Thank you for being so patient. I promise there won't be such a long gap before the next one. Thank you for reviewing the previous chapters. Hope you enjoy this one :)

I continue to make a very humble attempt to flesh out all the important moments that Liza and Charles shared over the course of 5 seasons as they fell in love. The chapters are woven around what we actually got to see, expanded with their thoughts and feelings with some 'extra' material to elaborate their story and trace their journey through this lovely relationship.

Chapter 5 is based around the events of episodes 2 and 3 of season 2.

Disclaimer: I don't own Younger, any of its characters or their scripts and stories.

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Chapter 5

Liza knocked nervously on Charles' door, clutching her umbrella in one hand and the Hillenbrand manuscript in the other.

"Hi," smiled Charles, standing in the doorway, and Liza felt the now familiar flutter run through her stomach at the sound of his soft voice.

"Hi," she replied, grinning at him. "I've got the Hillenbrand manuscript."

If Charles allowed himself to admit it, he was strangely excited about having her here, at his house, late on a Friday evening. If he let himself feel it, he wanted to ask her in, pour her a drink, and talk to her for as long as he could. If he let himself go, he wanted to pull her to him and kiss her softly, just to get a taste of her, to know what she felt like in his arms.

He shook his head to get rid of these thoughts that were threatening to take over and render him completely useless, and quickly said, "Thank you so much for running it over so late. I hope I didn't ruin your night."

"Nah. I was just playing a little ping pong," she replied, handing him the envelope.

Charles chuckled softly. It sent a warm, tingly feeling straight through her.

And suddenly all Liza wanted to do was make him laugh again. She loved the little crinkles that appeared in the corners of his eyes when he smiled, and his throaty chuckle did things to her insides that equally scared and excited her.

"You're so lucky. I'm such a Hillenbrand fan. Seabiscuit was my favourite," she said wistfully.

There it was again. That connection he felt with her every time she talked about books, like they were on the same literary wavelength. And all he wanted was to explore this bond between them, to sit and pick her brain about the books she liked, the books she hated, and tell her what he loved to read and the books that he wouldn't go near.

"Well, I wish I could ask you to come in and read this with me, but that could get us both in trouble," he said regretfully, biting his tongue as soon as the words were out of his mouth.

The look on her face told him exactly what that sounded like and he rushed to clarify what he meant, stuttering over something about having signed a confidentiality agreement. And it was so damn cute that Liza had to stop herself from laughing at how red he had turned. She almost hugged him. Almost.

' _Keep it together girl, keep it together,'_ she thought, willing herself not to give into her instincts.

"Well, I should let you get to it. Enjoy the book," she said, forcing herself to turn away from him and walking down the stairs.

' _Wait,'_ he wanted to shout.

"Yeah?" said Liza, turning around, and Charles realised he'd said it out loud.

' _Well, there's no going back now,'_ he thought.

"Stay," he found himself saying. "Screw the confidentiality agreement. Just promise me you won't tell anyone, especially Diana. I don't want to be on the receiving end of _that_ lecture."

Liza giggled, and before the logical part of her brain could kick in, she nodded and jogged back up the stairs excitedly.

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Nothing had ever felt more natural. Low jazz, soft lighting, save for two bright lamps, two glasses of scotch on the table. And the two of them. Sitting on adjacent sofas in his study, reading pages of the manuscript. Comfortable silence, nothing but the sound of rustling pages in the room as they sat, completely engrossed in the book.

They were like a well-rehearsed symphony. He would finish a page and pass it over to her, and then she would read it and place it back carefully in the envelope in which it came. They were so in sync, it was as if they did this every weekend.

In between, he would get up occasionally to refill their glasses, or fetch them something to nibble on. And every time he left the room, Liza would feel an acute sense of loss… it was as if she missed him when he wasn't around her, even if it was for a few minutes. It was foolish, and silly and completely illogical, yet there she was, eagerly waiting for him to come back from checking on the sleeping girls upstairs.

She smiled as she heard his footsteps approach.

"Are they okay?" she asked softly, her voice coming out more huskily than she intended, a combination of the whiskey and not having spoken for so long while they were reading. And she watched his eyes darken with… was that desire? Her stomach did a flip flop and she licked her lips nervously as he nodded slowly.

"So what did you think of the book?" she asked quickly, taking a sip of her drink.

Charles cleared his throat and sat down next to her, trying to force the blood to remain in his brain. The sight of her licking her lips and the sound of her low, throaty voice, were stirring up such primal feelings within his chest that it took every ounce of his self-control to reach for the manuscript and not her.

"I… uh, I liked it," he said, keeping his eyes on the pages. "I think Seabiscuit and Unbroken were notches above, but this has a lot of potential."

"What about you?" he asked, finally raising his eyes to look at her. His breath caught in his throat as he saw her gazing back at him. He hadn't realised how close they were sitting. He could smell her perfume every time she moved.

' _What is happening to me?'_ He was acting like a love struck fool.

"I liked it too," she said. "I love the way she writes, how she always keeps such a strong focus on the story itself."

He nodded in agreement as she went on. Honestly, he could listen to her talk about books all night long. Maybe lay in bed, hold her in his arms, run his fingers through her hair, as they discussed manuscript after manuscript in hushed voices…

' _Stop it!'_ he admonished himself as he tried really hard to focus on Liza.

"Thank you Charles," she was saying, smiling softly at him. "… For letting me read the manuscript. It's so exciting to be one of the first to get to read it."

He grinned at her. "If a lawyer jumps out of the bushes and serves me a legal notice, you'll have to pay my retainer fee."

She giggled and Charles felt his heart leap in his chest. He could get used to that sound.

"I'm happy to have read it with you Liza," he said, sounding a little more sombre. "I have very rarely felt so comfortable and in sync with someone over a new manuscript. Usually I like to read in solitude and process the book before discussing it with anyone. But with you… well, it was very easy."

He knew he was saying too much. Or maybe he wasn't saying enough. He didn't want to scare her. But he needed to tell her… needed for her to know that he was feeling a strange connection with her. Needed to know if she was feeling it too.

He continued, "I've said this to you before Liza, you are an easy person to meet, to work with, to be with. Whenever I'm with you I feel this strange…"

"… connection," she finished.

And in his highly articulate life, he suddenly felt completely inarticulate.

They stared at each other for a few moments. The air heavy and electric around them. The silence suddenly deafening. Liza was sure he could hear the loud thumping of her heart. They were sitting so close that she could feel the heat emanating from his body. Her gaze flickered for the briefest moment to his lips, and she thought she saw him lean towards her just a little. She felt her pulse quicken.

"Dadddyyyy…" came a sudden wail from upstairs, breaking through the silence, startling them both.

"Uhh… umm…" stuttered Charles, standing up suddenly. "That's… uh… Bianca. She has nightmares sometimes."

He was speaking very rapidly, his face flushed and fast turning red.

Liza nodded, suddenly feeling like she had been holding her breath for the last few minutes. "You go take care of her. It's late anyway. I'll see myself out."

Charles wanted nothing more than to reach out to her and pull her to him. But he was rattled. He was losing control and it was scary as hell.

"Thanks Liza," he forced himself to say. "And thank you again for reading with me. I'll see you Monday."

"See you Monday, Charles," she nodded, as she walked to the stairs.

And with one last look at each other, they went in opposite directions, neither quite sure what to make of the evening but both terrified by the intensity of the moment they had just shared.

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He watched her circulate amidst the bloggers and digerati, smiling, laughing, chatting with them all. It was the launch party of Millennial Print and Liza was in full form, publicising her imprint, making sure the party had everything needed, looking so full of life and vigour.

Charles couldn't stop staring. Ever since that night at his house the previous week, when he had almost kissed her, he'd barely had a moment alone with her.

The entire week had been a flurry of activity as Liza and Kelsey had started work on their new imprint and prepared for this evening's gala celebration. Aside from hurried smiles and occasional conference room conversations, the two of them had hardly spoken.

She looked so beautiful, he could feel the blood rush a little quicker through his veins as he watched her from a distance. He really couldn't deny it any more. What _it_ was, he didn't know. But he knew he wanted to explore it. He wanted to get to know her better. Wanted to talk to her, outside of work. Wanted to make her laugh, to share late-night drinks with her, to find out everything he could about her life, about her hopes and ambitions for herself.

And he wanted to kiss her. Oh, how he wanted to kiss her. He couldn't remember the last time he had felt so overwhelmed by desire. And frankly, he was completely out of his depth.

He had been married for so long that he really didn't remember what it was like to date someone, to embark on something new. He didn't know how to take the first step. What he did know however, was that he was damn well going to try.

And so, with a determined swig of his drink, he walked up to her. "Why are you not over there getting your picture taken?"

His soft voice startled her, and she grinned when she saw him. She had missed him this last week, more than she cared to admit. There were many evenings when all she had wanted was to show up at his brownstone, demand he pour her a drink and sit in his lounge, talking books for hours on end.

Her eyes wandered over him briefly as they continued to chat… the man could have been a magazine model! And she loved seeing him dress semi-casual. No tie tonight, just a blazer and black shirt. He looked so good in black. She got a whiff of his cologne as he moved closer to her, and the butterflies in her stomach went into overdrive.

All she wanted to do was stand there and talk to him, but she could see Kelsey hyperventilating from the corner of her eye.

"I'm sorry. Excuse me," she said reluctantly, dragging herself away from Charles and hurrying off to help her friend.

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Charles' heart was singing. He was at the bar, grabbing a couple of glasses of champagne for himself and Liza. He was so impressed with her, so proud of her… the way she had coached Kelsey through her speech, and so selflessly not wanted any credit for it. The more he got to know her, the more she continued to amaze him.

She terrified him. Oh yes, she did. He felt a complete and utter loss of control when he was around her. His brain, his heart and his body, all failed to cooperate with him when it came to Liza. And the control freak in him went into panic mode whenever that happened.

But she also excited him. She made him feel young and hopeful again. He constantly found himself gravitating towards her. And so now here he was, getting drinks for them, impatient to get back to her and continue their conversation.

Her young man was gone from her life. He had "ghosted" her, she'd said. And while Charles didn't quite know what that meant, it seemed like she was a single woman. And he knew he shouldn't be delighted but he just couldn't wipe the grin off his face.

He intended to fetch as many drinks for her as she wanted this evening, and then he was going to ask her if she'd like to go out for coffee or maybe go back to his brownstone for a nightcap and one of their late night conversations.

His heart thumped wildly at the prospect of getting to spend some time alone with her, to talk to her, to have her near him.

And there was a skip in his step as he grabbed the champagne glasses from the bartender and headed back to where he had left her waiting for him.

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Charles sat in the Uber, on his way back from the party. He was irritated and he drummed his fingers impatiently on the seat, willing the car to move faster, wanting to get home and into the shower.

All he wanted to do was wash the evening off him and go to bed.

He knew why he was feeling like this. He knew _exactly_ why he was feeling like this.

It had cut like a knife when he had walked back, champagne glass in each hand, and seen Liza kissing some other man, some other _young_ man. The icy grip had returned to encircle his heart in its firm hold and every bit of joy and hope he had felt just minutes before were completely wiped clean in that moment.

He had done the right thing. He _always_ did the right thing. He had smiled. He had pretended to be very happy to meet this young man, this Josh-something. He had handed them the glasses of champagne. And he had wished them well and walked away.

And then, because he couldn't bear to be there any more, he had called an Uber and left.

He sighed as he looked out of the car window at the twinkling lights of the city. It was probably for the best. She was too young for him anyway. She would never want to be with someone as old as him, divorced, with two kids. He had so much baggage and it wouldn't be fair to weigh someone as young as her down with it.

' _Yup, it's for the best,'_ he told himself.

What a pity his heart no longer listened to anything his brain said.

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 _[Liza] I'm so sorry Charles. I didn't know Josh was going to turn up tonight._

She wasn't quite sure why she was apologising to him. But she felt a strange need to. Truth be told, she had actually felt a flash of disappointment when Josh had showed up. And she didn't quite know what to make of that. All she knew was that till he had appeared, she was really looking forward to spending time with Charles, talking to him for as long as she could, maybe even asking him if he'd like to have coffee afterwards.

But then Josh had come and suddenly he was kissing her and the next thing she saw was Charles, staring at her over Josh's shoulder, holding two champagne glasses in his hands. And in that moment, she had wanted to disappear. Or she had wanted Josh to disappear.

Was it her imagination, or had Charles briefly looked crestfallen? Not for long though. He'd handed Josh the champagne, smiled a tight smile and left before she'd had a chance to say anything to him.

So here she was, late at night, after the successful launch of her new imprint, feeling miserable instead of elated, as she lay in bed and texted Charles.

Her phone buzzed.

 _[Charles] Absolutely nothing to apologise for Liza. You and Josh make a lovely couple. You are both young and have much to look forward to in life. I wish you all the best with him. I'll see you Monday. Good night._

Liza stared at his message.

It was courteous, it was polite. So why did it feel like a kick in the stomach? Why did she suddenly feel like she wanted to cry? And why did her life feel emptier than it did a few hours ago?

Liza flopped back against her pillows, and sighed as she looked up at the ceiling.

' _When did life get so complicated?'_ she thought, as she contemplated whether to reply to him.

With a sigh, she placed her phone on her nightstand and turned off the lights. She would deal with her tangled web of a life tomorrow.


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N:** As promised, the next chapter has been uploaded soon after the last one. Once again, thank you for reviewing the previous chapters. Hope you enjoy this one :)

I continue to make a very humble attempt to flesh out all the important moments that Liza and Charles shared over the course of 5 seasons as they fell in love. The chapters are woven around what we actually got to see, expanded with their thoughts and feelings with some 'extra' material to elaborate their story and trace their journey through this lovely relationship.

Chapter 6 is based around The Empiriconda! And I had great fun writing it ;)

 **Disclaimer:** I don't own Younger, any of its characters or their scripts and stories.

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Chapter 6

Charles was mortified. _Mortified._

"Empirical's Big Swinging Dick"

The headline was swimming before his eyes. He could feel everyone staring at him as he walked through the office to Diana's room and he couldn't bear to make eye contact with anyone.

His face was burning as he knocked on Diana's door and walked in. He stopped short.

' _Shit,'_ he thought. Why was Liza here? This whole mess was embarrassing enough without having to talk about it in front of her.

He had avoided her since the Millennial party. Kept their conversations strictly professional and polite. Kept his distance from her while he figured out how to deal with the attraction he felt for her.

And now here she was, standing with Diana, the two of them staring at the computer. He didn't need to see what they were looking at to know what was on the screen. This was going to be humiliating as hell.

He took a deep breathe and cleared his throat awkwardly, "There is a… uhh… A small matter that I need to talk to you about…"

Liza was torn… should she keep looking at the picture of Charles in those tight, _tight_ shorts on the computer? Or should she discreetly examine his crotch as he stood before her to see if the story was indeed right? Or should she run over to him and hug him, because dear God, he looked so very embarrassed and it was just too adorable.

She tried to keep her eyes from travelling southwards, forcing herself to keep looking at his oh so flushed face. But she just couldn't help herself and her eyes kept drifting down to the slight bulge in the front of his pants. How had she never noticed it before?

She was trying to keep her mind focused but her brain wasn't cooperating. She was having visions… Visions that were made up of images of Charles Brooks, naked, in her bed, while she did her very own close, personal examination of Empirical's Big Swinging…

' _Stop it Liza! Just stop it!'_ she admonished herself, shaking her head and trying to concentrate on what Diana was saying.

"These things happen. There's no need to explain yourself. I can assure you, we will get it off," she heard her boss say.

"Down!" Liza exclaimed quickly as Charles' face turned an even deeper shade of red.

He looked so embarrassed, like a teenage boy caught with a stack of dirty magazines. It was so cute. And now she really wanted to hug him. Not that she wanted to press up against him to try and experience the picture in the article herself. Nope, not at all. That wasn't the reason.

She bit her lip to stop herself from grinning as Charles adjusted his tie uncomfortably and walked out of the room without meeting her eye.

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 _[Charles] Be honest Liza… what was the hashtag?_

Liza heard her phone buzz just as she was getting into bed that night. She smiled widely when she saw who the text was from. It had been weeks since he had messaged her late at night. She had missed these conversations with him. Since the launch party for Millennial, he had been distant, formal. So she was thrilled to be back on late night text messaging terms with him.

She settled back against her pillows, with a grin on her face.

 _[Liza] What hashtag?_

' _How had he found out about the hashtag?'_ she wondered. She'd worked so hard to keep it from him.

 _[Charles] I know about the Jade Winslow tweet Liza. I didn't read it. But I know it's out there. And I know there was a hashtag that you were trying to hide from me all day._

Liza grinned, her heart going out to him. She could just picture him getting hot under the collar, face turning red with embarrassment.

 _[Liza] Are you sure you want to know?_

Charles sighed. Did he want to know? Did he _really_ want to know? He really, really didn't. But he had already texted Liza asking her and what he really, really, _really_ wanted was to keep chatting with her.

 _[Charles]_ _I've resisted Googling it because I don't think I could bear to see what has been written. And I definitely cannot bear to see that picture again. So it's safest that I hear it from you. So tell me, Liza… What was the hashtag?_

Liza debated whether to tell him or not. She knew what a horribly embarrassing day he'd had. And really, finding out about the hashtag was only going to make it worse.

' _But better I tell him than he search for it on the web,'_ she reasoned. She shuddered to think how mortified he would feel if he actually read the articles that were out there.

 _[Liza] #TheEmpiriconda_

Charles choked on the water he had just sipped, as her message popped up. He covered his face with his hands and groaned loudly. This was bad!

His phone started ringing. He peered through his fingers and saw Liza's name flash across the screen. He was torn between feeling too embarrassed to answer and the jolt of desire that was tap dancing through his chest at the prospect of hearing her voice.

He swiped the screen and put the phone to his ear.

"The Empiriconda?" he said, groaning softly, pinching the bridge of his nose.

Liza tried hard not to giggle.

"I know, I'm so sorry," she said, a slow smile spreading across her face as she heard his soft, sexy, and right now, childishly morose sounding voice.

Charles rubbed his face tiredly.

"I don't know where that picture appeared from. I didn't even know it existed!" he exclaimed, feeling his face turn red again.

"It could have been worse," she said gently.

"How Liza? How could this possibly have been worse?" he muttered, squeezing his eyes shut.

"Umm… Well, the headline could have been – Empirical's Small Unimpressive Dick? And, the hashtag could have been… uh… #TheEmpiriLittle?" she said, stifling the snort that threatened to escape her.

There was a moment of silence.

And then Charles burst out laughing and the sound went straight to Liza's heart.

This was the first time she had heard him laugh like this, so openly, so freely. She couldn't help but join in, feeling her chest fill with warmth and affection for him.

He suddenly felt lighter, happier. The humiliation of the day washed away in just one short conversation with her.

"TheEmpiriLittle?!" he asked, still chuckling.

"Like I said, it could have been worse," replied Liza, giggling as she lay back against her pillows. "At least now everyone knows you have a generous endowment to match the rest of your incredibly sexy self."

There was stunned silence from the other end, and Liza shot up off her pillows, sitting up straight, blushing furiously the minute the words were out of her mouth.

' _What did I just say?!'_ She covered her eyes with her hand and mentally kicked herself. _'What the hell did I just say?!'_

"Incredibly sexy self huh?" his voice was almost a whisper, the faintest hint of teasing in his tone.

Liza groaned softly.

His heart beat faster. He felt a charge of excitement bolt through his veins. And all the effort of the last few weeks of keeping her out of his life went to shit in that moment, as his desire for her marched through and conquered his heart and mind alike.

"It's okay, Liza," Charles chuckled reassuringly. "If you'd like, I'll pretend I didn't hear that."

There was a slightly self-satisfied smirk on his face and he felt a foolish burst of manly pride sweep through him.

He wasn't completely clueless. He knew women found him attractive. He never really thought much about it. His life had been about work and books and his kids, and the only woman he had been interested in was the one he had been married to.

But discovering that Liza thought he was sexy made his chest puff up like he was a teenager starved for compliments. He felt a goofy grin spread across his face.

Liza could feel her cheeks getting hotter and hotter.

"I… uh… Charles… I'm sorry. I didn't mean that. I mean… not that you're not sexy… uhhh… I mean I don't think…" Liza stuttered, struggling to get the words out.

Charles laughed and she blushed an even deeper shade of red.

He decided to put her out of her misery.

"Good night, Liza," he said, still grinning widely. "Thank you for making me feel better. I'll see you at the office tomorrow."

"Good night, Charles," she said gratefully, and quickly hung up.

Clutching the phone to her chest, she lay back with a loud huff. A slow grin spread across her face as she looked up at the ceiling. She could feel a huge bubble of happiness well up inside her.

Sighing softly, she turned off the lights and snuggled under the covers.

The fluttering in her stomach was back, her heart was singing again.

She fell asleep with a smile playing on her lips… the phone was still clutched to her heart.


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N:** I'm back with the next chapter after a LONG break. I apologise for that. Once again, thank you for reviewing the previous chapters. Hope you enjoy this one :) And I hope not to have such a long gap before I get the next one up.

Chapter 7 is based around the events of episodes 7 and 11 of Season 2.

 **Disclaimer:** I don't own Younger, any of its characters or their scripts and stories.

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Chapter 7

Liza grabbed her copy of the New York Times and scoured the pages eagerly, stopping only when she found what she was looking for – the By The Book section. Her heart did a little jig when she saw his name in big bold letters – CHARLES BROOKS, alongside a sketch photo of his.

She poured herself a strong cup of coffee and sat down in a sunny corner of the loft, newspaper in hand.

 _WHAT WAS YOUR FAVOURITE BOOK AS A CHILD?_

 _Charles Brooks: To Kill A Mockingbird was quite a favourite of mine. Though to be honest, I was much more of a comic book nerd as a kid and my true love was The Hulk. I know people would expect the heir to a publishing empire to list literary classics but come on, The Hulk is cool!_

Liza laughed in delight. A tingle ran through her body as she flashbacked to their conversation when she was at the Brewgrass Festival. Ugh, that awful, horrid place that Josh had forced her to go to. She shuddered at the memory of peeing in the woods, and quickly resumed reading.

 _WHAT BOOK CHANGED YOUR LIFE?_

 _Charles Brooks: That's a tough one to answer. And though I can't explain in detail why, I would have to say Freedom by Jonathan Franzen. The reasons are a bit personal but let's just say I re-read it recently and it provided me a lot of insight about my life and myself._

Liza smiled softly. It was the perfect answer. She loved that he had been honest without going into too much personal detail. She thought back to what he had said about his wife leaving him and shook her head. She found it hard to believe that any woman could leave a man like Charles Brooks. A man so kind, so considerate, so humble, not to mention, good looking to boot!

' _The woman must be crazy'_ she thought as she sipped her coffee and started re-reading the interview.

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"I loved it," she said, grinning into the phone. She had picked up at the first ring, knowing that he would call her.

Charles smiled and let out a long sigh. He could almost feel something in his chest dissolve, as though he had been holding his breath in a little knot, waiting to hear what she thought of his interview.

"Did you really?" he asked, vulnerability peeping through his words, tugging at Liza's heartstrings.

"Yes, really," she said, desperate to make him understand just how much she enjoyed reading it. "It was honest, from the heart and that's the secret to a perfect By The Book interview. Take it from someone who's read every single one of them," she laughed.

Charles chuckled. He was feeling giddy with happiness. Who would have thought he was a 45 year old father of two. He was behaving like a love-struck, mooning teenager.

"I couldn't have done it without you, Liza," he said softly. "I mean it. If the interview is any good, it's only because you coached me through it."

Liza grinned widely. She felt a warm wave of affection wash over her. Charles Brooks, the CEO of Empirical Press, was thanking _her_ for talking him through an interview.

"It was nothing," she said. "I really enjoyed working on it with you."

And then she added softly, "I always enjoy talking to you."

There was a moment of silence as Charles squeezed his eyes shut, letting her words sink in. There it was again. That connection. That feeling of comfort. That attraction. That desire. He didn't know quite what to make of it or how to fight it.

Embarrassed by her forthrightness, Liza quickly said, "And thank _you_ for booking that wonderful bed and breakfast for me… uh… I mean us. We really loved it."

And just as easily as his heart had soared, it came crashing back down. There it was. The 'we' he hated to hear her say. He kept forgetting that she had someone in her life. That there was no space for him. That she was almost half his age. That she didn't want him.

He gritted his teeth and tried to keep his voice normal. "You're most welcome. It was the least I could do given how much of your time I took this weekend. I hope your boyfriend didn't mind."

It killed him to say 'your boyfriend' but as always he was the well-mannered, every polite Charles Brooks who knew the correct things to say.

"I… uh… he didn't," she was struggling with how to reply. Why was it that whenever she spoke to Charles, she wanted to erase Josh from her life?

"I really appreciated it Charles. It's one of the sweetest things anyone has ever done for me," she said, softly.

His heart broke a little at her words. How was it that something as small as what he'd done made her feel so grateful? Didn't she know that she deserved nothing but the best? Didn't she realise how lucky any man would be to have her in his life? He could spend the rest of his existence doing things like this for her if it would make her happy. If he could have her, he would spend every waking moment trying to make her understand just how amazing a person she was.

He shook his head. She was not his to please. That job belonged to someone else. And the quicker he understood that, the better.

"No problem. See you in the office Liza," he said abruptly, unable to carry on the conversation. It was eating at him and his tendency to shut down in an uncomfortable situation was taking over.

"Bye, Charles," she said, a little surprised. And before she could say anything else, he was gone.

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It had been weeks since Charles had had any proper interaction with Liza. He was trying to keep his distance. The attraction he felt to her was undeniable – every time he saw her in the morning meeting, head bent over her notepad, his heart skipped a beat. Every time he heard her voice floating through the office, he felt a tingle run through him. Every time he passed her in the hallway, he couldn't help but take a deep breath to inhale the fragrance of her perfume. And every time she caught his eye and smiled at him he felt his heart do a somersault in his chest and beat a thousand times faster. Yep, he had it bad.

And he knew he had to control it. He had to fight all the impulses that were making her seem irresistible to him, that made him want to take her into his arms and kiss her, long and hard.

Thank God Edward L.L. Moore was in town, because the hoopla around his presence was enough tension to keep him distracted. He couldn't stand the greasy old man. He was a sleaze ball. But he was also Empirical's biggest cash cow, and Charles knew he had to give the best-selling author whatever he wanted. And that's the only reason he had allowed Liza to be Princess Pam Pam at this launch event. He hadn't read any of Edward's books, but he figured an afternoon of dressing up as some mythical character wouldn't hurt Liza in any way and it would satisfy the crazy demands of the senile old man.

Charles sensed her presence behind him and quickly turned around. Suddenly it was as if he couldn't breathe. His heart wouldn't stop hammering, his head felt strangely devoid of blood and the wind had been completely knocked out of him.

Liza stood in front of him, dressed in what could only be described as a fur bikini. Her long, _long_ legs were on full display and he had to really, really control himself from letting his eyes wander over her legs, her flat stomach, the rest of her perfect body.

"That's the costume?" he was struggling to form a coherent sentence.

"Well, yeah, it may be tiny, but at least it's fur," she said, looking uncomfortable.

Somewhere in the recesses of his brain a little voice was telling him just how wrong it was that she was being forced to parade around a stage dressed like this. But before he could do anything about it, the announcements began and he found himself reaching out his hand to help her up on the platform.

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"Thank you for stepping in with Edward," she said gratefully.

Liza sat across from Charles, glasses of cognac on the table, grateful to be away from the cold, and most of all, happy to be away from that lecherous old man.

Charles shook his head. He was kicking himself for letting Moore near her. He should have known that the disgusting man would make a pass at her. He hated himself for putting her in that position.

"I should've done it hours ago..." he said ruefully, "Except..."

"I know. He's a big deal for Empirical," said Liza softly.

"Oh, to say the least," replied Charles, wishing it weren't so. "The truth is, every time that he comes to town, I can't breathe. The idea that my company... My grandfather's company... can't exist without the overwritten fantasies of some handsy old man..."

Once again, he was astounded at how much he was willing to reveal to her. When she was with him, he couldn't stop talking, there were no barriers between brain and mouth. The words just kept tumbling out and he had no control over himself. He felt so comfortable with her. So _comforted_ by her. She felt like… home.

He shook his head at the crazy thoughts that were swirling through his brain and tried to concentrate on what she was telling him. Ah yes, the book sale numbers on Amazon.

"It's number one by a mile," she said with a smile.

"That's wonderful," he said, trying to force a smile on his face.

"I thought you'd be happier," she was surprised by his lack of enthusiasm.

Charles chuckled.

"I'm... I'm more relieved than happy. There's this small part of me that... That always secretly hopes that maybe this time..."

"The whole thing would just come crashing down already?" she said with a little smirk.

He marvelled at her. How did she always know what he was thinking? What was this strange cosmic connection they had? He had never felt anything like this with anyone else before, not even his wife. It was not just a physical attraction… Liza appealed to every part of his mind, body and soul.

And once again, he found himself pouring his heart out to her, inhibitions completely forgotten.

"It's a lot, year after year of wondering if we'll make it. And sometimes I wonder what it would be like if the bottom dropped out and I had to start over again. What would I do?" he said, looking a little sheepish.

"What would you do?" she asked, genuine curiosity shining in her warm brown eyes.

Charles hesitated, "I don't know."

And then she asked the question that really hit home.

"Well, what's something you've always wanted to do, something you couldn't do because of your job?"

Charles stared at her. In his entire life, no one, absolutely no one, had asked him that. Not when he was a young boy, and everyone assumed he would take over his family's publishing company. Not when he was a young man, when his grandfather and father ushered him into the business. Not when he got married, and his wife enjoyed all the perks and limelight of being a big publisher's wife.

He could hardly believe she wanted to know.

He smiled at her. "Um... Do you really want to know?" he asked softly.

Liza looked at him. His face was suddenly aglow, eyes shining, a smile playing on his lips. And she just had to know what dreams and unfulfilled ambitions he had that made him look this happy.

"Yeah, I do," she started to say when her phone chimed.

And before Charles could process what was happening, she had rushed out with a worried look on her face.

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 _[Liza] I really do want to know what it was you were going to say, Charles. I'm sorry for rushing out like I did._

Charles stared at her text message. He wasn't quite sure what to say to her. Truth be told, he was a little hurt that she had rushed out the way she did, without any explanation. The rational part of his brain told him that she didn't owe him any explanations. But his heart was in no mood to listen to his brain.

 _[Charles] It's really no big deal, Liza. Please don't think anything of it. Honestly, I don't think I know what I was going to say anyway. So just forget about it._

Liza felt miserable. She knew he was upset with her. But she didn't want to seem too forward and assume what he was feeling. She wished she could go back to the bar and redo how things had played out. But right now she had too much on her plate with Thad and all the trouble he was causing.

She sighed and typed.

 _[Liza] Be that as it may Charles, I do hope we can get back to this conversation someday. And once again, I'm sorry about earlier today._

He was tempted to reply. To continue the conversation. Hell, maybe even to call her and have a late night chat. But he couldn't bring himself to do it. And so he placed his phone on his bedside table, switched off his lamp and tried his darndest to go to sleep.


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N:** Quickity quick with the next chapter, as promised. Thank you for reviewing the previous chapters. Hope you enjoy this one :)

Chapter 8 is based around the FIRST KISS!

 **Disclaimer:** I don't own Younger, any of its characters or their scripts and stories.

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Chapter 8

Charles could hear Diana and Kelsey talking. Strains of their conversation came floating to him, something about someone having signed a non-disclosure agreement and taken another job.

"Who?" he asked, walking towards them.

"Liza," replied Diana.

And it was like a sucker punch to his gut.

"Liza quit?" he asked incredulously. He couldn't believe it. She couldn't be gone. She definitely _could not_ be gone.

His heart was beating fast, he was finding it hard to breathe. How could she leave like this? Without talking to him, without telling him why she wanted to quit.

He clenched his fist, trying to control his anger. He had to find her. He had to get her back. He didn't care whether she had a boyfriend, whether she was interested in him or not… he had to at least have her working with him. She had to be a part of his life.

He shook his head, astounded at how she had had such an impact on him in such a short time. But she was an intrinsic part of his daily existence now. And he could not imagine his office, his _life_ without her.

"I'm going to make some calls, find out where she took a job," he said, hurrying away as fast as he could.

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Liza stumbled into the loft, feet aching, dead tired.

"Hey!" said Maggie, "How was your first day?"

Liza sighed. Her new job at the Paramus Mall in New Jersey left a lot to be desired. But she was determined to be positive about it.

"Not bad. It was actually kind of relaxing to turn my brain off, not have to pretend all the time," she said, clearly unconvincingly because Maggie was shaking her head at her.

"Yeah? I'm not buying it," said Maggie, pouring Liza some wine.

"Okay, fine. Some weird guy kept asking me to measure his inseam," she said grimly.

"Ugh," shuddered Maggie.

"But it's a great company. And I'll, uh, I'll get full benefits," muttered Liza, downing the wine in one gulp.

"Mhhmm," said Maggie, unconvinced. "You can always tell me the truth honey, you know that."

Liza sighed and poured herself some more wine.

"I miss him," she said, shrugging.

Maggie didn't need to ask who she was talking about. She just nodded for Liza to go on.

"I miss seeing him around the office. I miss hearing his deep, sexy voice. I miss sharing my inputs on books with him," Liza said softly. "I just…"

"Miss him," completed Maggie.

Liza stared at her friend for a few seconds before glugging the second glass of wine.

"Oookaay," said Maggie, grabbing the empty glass from Liza. "I think you need some sleep honey."

"But…" she protested.

"Uh-huh," said Maggie shaking her head. "I'm being strict here. Off to bed with you."

Liza sighed, put Charles out of her mind and let Maggie drag her off to bed.

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Charles was feeling incredibly frustrated. She had vanished. He couldn't find her anywhere. He had spent every waking moment making calls to everyone he knew in the publishing business. Had she changed her name? Had she left New York? Was she no longer in publishing? The questions were swirling in his brain and driving him crazy.

He knocked on Diana's door.

"I checked every publishing house in town. I can't find her anywhere," he said, trying to keep the frustration out of his voice. He didn't want Diana to get suspicious.

He gripped his phone tightly in his hand as he listened to Diana bicker with her new assistant. He was feeling more and more helpless. What could he do? Where could he go to look for her? How was he going to get her back? He had never felt more at sea than he did in this moment. And frankly the depth of his feelings scared him.

In all these months of growing attraction to Liza, he hadn't realised just how much he had gotten used to her presence in his life. To imagine his world without her seemed almost impossible. He didn't know how she had ended up having such an impact on him but he needed her. In whatever capacity. But he needed her in his life.

Suddenly he became aware of a hysterical Kelsey in the doorway, saying something about Liza.

"I know where she's working. A department store at the Paramus Mall in New Jersey," said Kelsey breathlessly.

If he hadn't been conscious of Diana and Kelsey's presence in the room, he would have rushed out, jumped into his car and driven to Jersey without a second thought. But he knew he had to exercise control. He couldn't just go haring after her without arousing suspicion.

"This is my fault. I'm the reason she left. And I can't get her to talk to me," Kelsey was exasperated and clearly she wasn't the right person to send after Liza.

"Diana?" Charles turned to his marketing head.

"Don't look at me. I'm not going to New Jersey," said Diana, disdain evident on her face.

Charles' heart leapt. And before anyone could say anything, he spun around and headed out.

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He walked into the Paramus Mall in New Jersey, his heart hammering, eyes searching for her. He felt like he was in a daze. All he could think of was seeing her and getting her to come back. She _had_ to come back. He wasn't going to leave till she agreed.

It took him a while but as he walked into the men's section of the department store, he spotted a young woman with long brown hair with her back to him. It was as if he sensed her before he saw her. And his heart, which had been beating at hundred beats a second till then, suddenly went very still. He felt like he had stopped breathing.

There she was, nonchalantly arranging ties, like nothing had happened, like she hadn't left her job, like she hadn't left _him_. He stood there for a moment just staring at her back. In that moment nothing mattered to him. Nothing. Not that she was so much younger than him. Not that she was an assistant in his office. Not that she had a boyfriend. Absolutely nothing. All that mattered was her. And his desire, his _need_ to get her back.

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He wanted to come up with a clever line to initiate conversation with her. But as he approached her, his brain went blank and his almost still heart suddenly picked up pace.

"I'm looking for something... bold, but not too crazy," he said, trying to keep his voice from shaking.

Liza froze at the sound of that deep, husky voice, coming from right behind her. Her heart rate sped up and her breath quickened. She couldn't believe it. It couldn't be him. Why would he be here? The butterflies that made a regular appearance when he was around were back, fluttering away in her stomach. She could feel the tingle of desire course through her as she turned to face him, her breath catching in her throat at the sight of him standing, tall and broad, in front of her.

"Uh, how about this, um, purple paisley?" she was struggling to get the words out. Her throat suddenly felt completely parched.

"What are you doing here?" he asked, unable to keep up the charade of this conversation. Didn't she know how much he needed her? Didn't she understand how helpless she had made him feel but leaving the way she did?

"You wouldn't understand," Liza said softly. She couldn't think straight right now. She hadn't expected him to come after her. How did he even know where she was? And why was he here? A small part of her had the ridiculous hope that he was there because he wanted her back – not just in the company but in his life. But that was foolish. She shook her head.

"We want you back at Empirical," he said. _'And I want you back in my life,'_ he thought.

"I don't know, I..." she started to say, trying to get her mind to focus.

"Just think about it," he said, looking deep into her eyes. And all of a sudden, it was as if the store had emptied out. It was just him and her. Right now. In this moment. The air felt heavy around them. Electric.

He wanted her. He _needed_ her. And now, he needed her to know that she was more than just an employee in his company. So much more.

And then nothing mattered. Not the age difference. Not their professional relationship. Not her relationship status. Nothing. It was him and her. And he needed her to know just what she was in his life.

Before he knew it, he had taken two steps to cover the distance between them. And suddenly he had her face cupped in his hands. And then… he kissed her.

There was an explosion of stars all around them. He had wanted this for so long now, to taste her, to hold her against him. He could feel her responding to him, kissing him back. He wanted to deepen the kiss, to wrap his arms around her and pull her close. He wanted to kiss her with all the depth of the feelings that were swarming through his heart. But he was aware that they were in public. And he didn't want to scare her.

So, he pulled away, reluctantly, even though all he wanted was to kiss her again. This time put his arm around her, bury his fingers in her hair, hold her against his body and take his time exploring her mouth, kissing her slowly, sensually. Letting her know that she made him feel things he had never felt before.

But he was terrified. Terrified at his lack of control. Terrified that she would be freaked out by what he had just done. Terrified that he would do it again, right here, right now.

And so she was left open mouthed as he quickly strode away before she could gather her senses and react to what had just happened.

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Liza wasn't sure how she got home. She was in a complete daze. Her mind was whirring, her heart hadn't stopped hammering since the moment Charles' lips had descended on hers. She had never shared such an intense kiss with anyone in her life.

Somehow she managed to make it back to the loft, stumbling in on Maggie and a bottle of vodka.

"Gimme," she said, grabbing the vodka bottle and Maggie's glass, pouring herself a solid shot and downing it in one go.

"Whoa!" exclaimed Maggie, grabbing the glass and vodka bottle from her. "Honey! What's got into you? I mean I love it when you get crazy drunk but…"

"Charles kissed me," Liza broke in.

Maggie stared at her.

"Okay, wait. Now I need a stiff one," she said, swigging straight from the bottle. "Charles kissed you?! Where? How?"

Liza grabbed a glass for herself and poured drinks for both of them.

"He just… showed up at the mall. Said he wanted me back at Empirical. And then…"

"He planted one on you?" asked Maggie, smirking.

Liza downed another vodka shot in response and flopped backwards onto the sofa, groaning loudly.

"How was it?" asked Maggie.

"Really Mags? _That's_ what you want to know?" asked Liza, covering her eyes with her hand.

"Oh come on now," said Maggie. "You knew this was coming. You've been making moony eyes every time you talk about him and judging by the interest he's shown in you, he's feeling the same way."

Liza groaned again, peering at Maggie through her fingers.

"So… how was it?" asked Maggie again, pouring her friend another vodka shot.

"It was…" Liza downed the drink.

"It was incredible," she sighed. "It was everything I imagined it would be. It was fireworks and stars. It was the kind of kiss that makes your toes curl and sends your heart racing."

"Ooooh mama," said Maggie, fanning herself.

"But he's my boss Mags," said Liza softly. "He's my boss. _And_ he thinks I'm 26 years old."

"Dirty old man eh?" giggled Maggie. She'd clearly been hitting the vodka long before Liza got home. "Making the moves on the young assistant."

Liza swatted Maggie's arm.

"What do I do?" she said, clutching Maggie's hand. "Tell me… what do I do?"

Maggie felt a wave of affection for her friend and putting her glass down, she threw her arm around Liza and hugged her.

"Oh honey, it's very simple. Do you like him?" she asked. "Do you see yourself with him?"

Before Liza could answer, Maggie continued, "Because if you really do like him and you see a future with him, then I think you should go all in. Tell him the truth, tell him you want him and let your world explode. If it's meant to be, it'll happen."

Liza laid her head on Maggie's shoulder and sighed. Did she like him? Oh yes, she more than liked him. Did she see a future with him? She couldn't admit to Maggie how many times she had imagined laying around on his couch, wrapped up in his arms, reading with him, drinking scotch, laughing, spending time with his girls, cooking together, sleeping together, waking up together.

Liza shook her head. It wasn't going to be as simple as all that.

She grabbed the remote from the table nearby and turned on the TV.

"I can't think about this right now," Liza mumbled.

Maggie smiled and hugged her closer. Her friend had it bad. Worse than Maggie had ever seen her. But for now, she would let it rest. Liza needed distraction and she was happy to help her forget her troubles.


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N:** Here's the next chapter. More angst because what's Charliza without the angst! Thank you for reviewing the previous chapters. Hope you enjoy this one :)

Chapter 9 is based on events after their first kiss

 **Disclaimer:** I don't own Younger, any of its characters or their scripts and stories.

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Chapter 9

Liza spent an extra 30 minutes that morning getting ready. Her bed was strewn with discarded clothes that she had tried on and rejected. She had shaved her legs in the shower. She had sprayed an extra bit of perfume on herself. And she had applied a tad bit more make up than she usually did for work. Not that she would admit any of this to anyone. She could barely even admit it to herself.

She was feeling a strange kind of excitement this morning. The butterflies in her stomach were on overdrive. She caught herself humming in the shower. She had even surprised Maggie by hugging her as she made toast.

And she knew exactly why she was so happy. Why there was a spring in her step. Once the initial shock of being kissed by Charles had worn off, Liza hadn't stopped grinning. She had replayed the moment about a thousand times in her head and each time the memory sent a tingle straight down to her toes.

All the times she had imagined kissing him had been nowhere close to the real thing. She had seen an explosion of stars when his lips descended on hers. Her heart felt like it had stopped beating. The world had melted away. In that moment, there was only him and her. She had felt the warmth of his body envelope her. His big, soft hands cupping her face tenderly. His lips, so soft, so perfect. His kiss… full of passion, like he'd never let her go.

And truthfully, she hadn't wanted him to let go. A feeling of disappointment had welled up in her chest when he had pulled away. And she had to fight every instinct in her body that made her want to grab him and pull him back in for another searing kiss.

She felt her body quiver with pleasure as she replayed the kiss in her mind. She grinned at her reflection in the mirror, smoothed down her dress and with one final look at herself, grabbed her bag and headed out, eager to get to the office.

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Charles straightened his tie and tugged his jacket down, checking his reflection in the mirror. He was feeling weirdly nervous. It was an unsettling feeling. He was conflicted. On the one hand, he was thrilled to have finally kissed Liza. All those nights of longing for her, of wanting to ask her to stay at his brownstone, of texting her and calling her late at night… his desire for her had built up so much that before he could help himself, he had kissed her. It was everything he had imagined it to be and so much more.

On the other hand, he felt embarrassed. Embarrassed for having lost control the way he had. Embarrassed that he hadn't asked her permission before kissing her. And embarrassed that he had walked away from her instead of staying to clear the air. The thought of losing her, the panic he had felt when he thought she had quit and left, had sent him into such a tizzy that he lost the ability to think straight.

He sighed and shook his head… torn between the happiness he felt, which had him humming all morning, and the little dart of fear that shot through his heart periodically, which made him worry about what lay ahead.

With one last look at himself in the mirror, he called out to his girls to get them moving. All he knew was that he needed to see Liza. And the thought that seeing her was only a short while away brought a big grin to his face.

"You look happy Daddy," said Nicole, as he helped her with her schoolbag.

"Do I?" asked Charles, trying not to blush.

"Uh-huh," piped up Bianca. "You're turning red and you have a goofy smile."

"Goofy smile huh?" Charles gave his younger daughter a quick hug. "I'm just happy to be with my two girls."

Nicole and Bianca shared a disbelieving look and before they could continue with more questions, Charles quickly hustled them out the door, "Now come on girls. We're going to be late."

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He walked through the office, talking to all the people who were coming up to him with questions and problems to solve, his eyes searching for her the entire time. Had she changed her mind? Was she not going to come back? HR had told him that she had returned. Had the kiss scared her? Had she run again?

' _Get a hold of yourself, Charles'_ he thought, shaking his head.

And then suddenly the earth shifted beneath his feet. The air grew heavy with electricity. He saw her from a distance, wearing a sexy floral dress, hair falling in soft waves around her shoulders, holding a coffee mug. His heart started beating faster, his breath became uneven and he had to pause for a moment to reign himself in before walking up to her.

Liza felt her breath catch in her throat as he approached her. She almost dropped the coffee mug she was holding. She tried to smile at him. Her knees were wobbling. She wanted to kiss him again.

' _Breathe Liza, breathe,'_ she told herself.

"Hi," he said, smiling softly at her and she could have melted right then and there.

"Hi," she replied, breathlessly. The spark between them was evident. Both a little hesitant, a little nervous, both wanting to say more, neither being able to say anything meaningful.

Charles knew he had to do the right thing… to find out if she felt the same way he did, to apologise for kissing her the way he had.

"I would love to find a moment to... talk. I feel like..." he began, but before he could explain what he was feeling, he was interrupted.

"Charles, I was looking for you in your office," said Diana, grabbing her coffee mug out of Liza's hands.

He tried very hard to pay attention to what she was saying, but his eyes refused to leave Liza. He wanted to reach over and tuck her hair behind her ear. Stroke her cheek. Take her to his office and tell him just how much he cared about her. Maybe kiss her softly.

He shook his head slightly and focused on his marketing head.

"That's a beautiful tie, by the way," Diana was saying.

Liza felt a jolt in the pit of her stomach when she noticed his tie. A grin spread across her face as she realized it was the same one she had picked out for him at the mall. She felt a shiver of pleasure run down her spine at the thought that he had chosen to wear it on her first day back.

"Thank you," said Charles.

And then with a slow, almost private smile, with his eyes firmly on Liza, he added huskily, "The salesgirl who picked it out really... gets me."

Liza's insides liquefied at his words, at the look in his eyes. And as he brushed past, she willed her wobbly knees to hold. She had never met a man whose words alone were enough to drive her wild with desire. Never had she been flirted with so smoothly, so subtly that it became a private moment between them in the middle of a big crowd. Never had she wanted to kiss someone so badly that she was actually contemplating marching into his office, pushing him against the door and making out with him like a teenager.

"Liza!" yelled Diana, snapping her out of her fantasy and she quickly hurried into her boss' office, trying her hardest to focus again.

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Charles sat at the Carlyle, whiskey in front of him, staring at but not really seeing the phone in his hand. He was running his friend Bob Katz's words over in his mind.

"You're putting yourself in a compromising position by inviting her out for a drink," Bob had said. And Charles wondered whether his feelings for Liza would do more damage than good.

Maybe it was just a useless fantasy. Maybe he actually did fit the stereotype of a forty-something year old man falling for a hot, young twenty-something assistant.

But that wasn't true. Charles thought back to all the conversations he'd had with Liza, all the text exchanges, the literary banter, conversations conducted entirely in quotes. The connection he felt with her was different. He had never felt like this with anyone before. And he was pretty sure he was not wrong about this.

He meant it when he told Bob and Julia that Liza was an old soul.

"I would keep it purely about business. If you want to pursue a romantic relationship, find her a job somewhere else," Bob had said. But that was not an option, thought Charles as he sipped his scotch. He had to have her around him. He couldn't let her go. Not until he knew that she reciprocated his feelings.

"Is there another option?" Charles had asked Bob.

"You could marry her."

Charles chucked softly. Marry her. He shook his head.

And suddenly visions flooded his head… Liza at his brownstone, with his daughters, him and her cooking together, going to bed with her, waking up with her, date nights every week, reading together snuggled up on the couch, kissing her through the day and the night, whenever he felt like it, holding her hand whenever and wherever he wanted to, having her as his date every New Year's Eve, every Valentine's Day, Christmas mornings with her and his girls.

The buzzing of his phone snapped him out of his fantasy and he shook his head at his foolishness.

 _[Liza] Sorry, not going to make it_

It was like someone had punched him right between the eyes. He stared at her text message, and all the joy went right out of him. His soul suddenly felt empty. The icy grip that had formed around his heart when his wife left was back, squeezing his lungs so he couldn't breathe.

He signaled for his check and left, as quickly as he could.

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Liza was feeling miserable. She was in bed, having changed out of the dress she had worn for Charles. Yes, for Charles. Because no matter what she had told Maggie, she had very much wanted to kiss him again tonight. But when she had seen him with Bob and Julia, her brain had gone into panic mode and she hadn't known what to do. Standing him up was the only solution that came to mind at that point. And now she was feeling very stupid about it.

She could have asked him to meet her elsewhere. She could have texted him that she would be late and waited till Bob and Julia had left. But in that moment she had panicked and made a dumb decision.

Liza sighed and picked up her phone.

 _[Liza] I'm so sorry Charles. I wanted to come and see you tonight. I really did. We do need to talk. I'm so, so sorry I couldn't make it._

She read her message over and then deleted the whole thing. It sounded so contrite. And she knew he would be hurt, pissed off even. And she knew there was nothing she could say that would make things better. She could kick herself right now for the stupid decision she had made on the spur of the moment.

She sighed again. And putting her phone on her bedside table, she turned off the lights. She would deal with this mess tomorrow.

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Charles stared at his phone as he lay in bed. He had come home, paid the babysitter, checked on his sleeping kids and then changed and got into bed.

A little part of him had been sure that she would text him again. She would explain why she decided not to show up. He had felt her kiss him back at the mall. And he knew that she felt the spark, the connection between them. So why? Why had she stood him up?

He was angry. He wanted to force an explanation out of her. But he knew he couldn't do that. He shoved his fist into his pillow and buried his face in the dent that it made.

Groaning loudly, he tried hard to fall asleep.

' _She's not interested, Charles,'_ he told himself. _'It was all in your head.'_

He had to move on. He _had to._ And as he turned off the lights, and willed sleep to come, he knew his brain would never be able to convince his heart.

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She had to speak to him. She just had to. She knew she owed him an explanation. He would never ask for one. But she had to apologise. Oh how she wished she could just tell him the truth. Just lay it all out in the open and be completely, 100% honest with him. But for now, she didn't have the courage for that.

She saw him standing at the other end of the conference room and made her way over to him

"I'm so sorry about last night," she began, willing him to hear the regret in her voice.

"Liza, I think you're fantastic. You don't have to explain a thing," he said stiffly. She knew he was angry with her. And she couldn't blame him. She had to tell him just how much he meant to her. That she cared for him. That this thing between them, this connection, it was important to her.

"I just want you to know..." she started to say.

"It was just a kiss, Liza. Let it go," he said gritting his teeth, shutting her out, shutting her down completely.

Feeling like she was sucker punched, she retreated. His walls were up and she couldn't find a way through. And she knew she was to blame. Her lip trembled and she bit down on it.

' _Don't cry, Liza'_ she told herself. _'Not here, not now'._

And she moved a few steps away from him as he stared resolutely at the screen, wondering if she had just destroyed the best thing that had happened to her in a long, long time.


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N:** Sorry for the delay folks. Blame it on all the holiday partying. Here's the next chapter, based around one of the hottest moments in television history... the opera dress zipping scene. Thank you for all your lovely reviews... they really are what keeps me going. Hope you enjoy this one :)

 **Disclaimer:** I don't own Younger, any of its characters or their scripts and stories.

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Chapter 10

Her skin was on fire.

His fingers ran slowly, _torturously_ slowly up the length of her almost naked back. She was struggling to breathe. The butterflies in her stomach were on overdrive. Her heart was racing. Her body was quivering. Her knees were threatening to give way.

For all practical purposes, he was simply zipping up her dress. But it felt like the most sensuous, seductive, intimate moment.

He was close enough that his gentle breath tickled the back of her neck. His warm fingers were setting every nerve ending alight as they trailed up her spine. She could feel the warmth emanating from his body. If she took a small step back she would encounter the solid wall of his chest. His big, manly, broad chest.

She closed her eyes and tried to steady her breath. Tried to remember where she was. That they were both here with dates. That the simple touch of his fingers shouldn't send pangs of lust coursing through her being. That she shouldn't in that moment be imagining what it would feel like if those very fingers trailed seductive paths over the rest of her body. She really, _really_ shouldn't.

Yet, she felt disappointed when he stepped away from her. Her skin suddenly feeling chilly, despite the warmth of the room.

She turned around and looked at him. Was that her desire reflected in his face? He looked flushed. A little shaken. Could she dare hope that he felt as turned on as she was feeling in that moment?

As she looked up into his eyes, she could see them turn a shade darker. She felt a yearning begin in the pit of her stomach and crawl rapidly straight up to her heart. They hadn't broken eye contact since that moment. The world around them had once again ceased to exist as it so often happened with the two of them.

And then her brain lost the battle with her heart, and all she wanted to do was close the distance between them and kiss him, with the carefree abandon and passion that had her heart thumping wildly.

She took a step forward…

"Charles…" came a voice from behind her.

And the moment was over. Eye contact was broken. Breathing returned to normal. Heart rates came back under control. And the noises around them grew louder.

"Radha. This is, uh, a colleague of mine. Liza Miller," he was suddenly saying.

And her brain told her heart to shut up as she turned and flashed a big grin at his beautiful and elegant date.

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Charles squirmed uncomfortably in his seat. His date turned to look at him questioningly and he quickly smiled politely, pretending to concentrate on the opera, even though his mind was occupied with a thousand different thoughts… all centred around the woman who had simultaneously given him a new lease of life and also made his existence hell for the last few months.

He closed his eyes and his mind was flooded with images of her smooth, soft, flawless skin. His fingers twitched in his lap. He could almost feel her bare back beneath them. He could almost smell her again… the beautiful, sweet fragrance that made him want to lean down and kiss the nape of her neck. Slide his arms around her waist, pull her to him, and then kiss her again, like he had been wanting to since he had done so at the mall.

In that moment of zipping up her dress, he had felt a reckless savage lust unlike anything he'd ever experienced before. Never before had he felt such a loss of self-control. Never before had such a haze of longing and lust clouded his brain that he would have forgotten all his manners and upbringing and just ravished her right there, in the lobby of the opera house.

He was shaken from his reverie by Radha's hand on his arm, and a faintly annoyed look on her face. Clearly she had been talking to him for some time now. He took a deep breath and smiled at her and willed all the blood in his brain to stay out of his pants.

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Liza lay in bed that night. Her own bed. She couldn't bear to spend the night at Josh's. Not with the way her heart was pounding and the thoughts that were muddling her brain and making her all confused.

Meanwhile, across town, Charles stared up at his ceiling, unable to fall asleep. He had dropped Radha home, come back to his brownstone and poured himself a couple of stiff ones before retiring to bed. But the welcome warmth of the alcohol that was creeping through his bloodstream was doing nothing to help him sleep.

He picked up his phone and began typing. And before his brain could let loose a bout of logic, he pressed send.

She jumped when her phone buzzed. Who was texting her so late at night?

 _[Charles] It was lovely to see you tonight Liza. I hope you had a good time._

She could feel the goofy grin spread across her face. And though she would be loath to admit it, she scrambled to sit up and reply like she was a lovestruck teenager.

He wasn't expecting an answer. It was 1 a.m. She was probably in bed. With Josh. He sighed and rubbed his eyes, startled when his phone pinged.

 _[Liza] I had a lovely evening. It's been years since I've been to the opera and I had forgotten how much I enjoyed them. I hope I can go again soon._

 _[Charles] You sound like you've been to a fair few. I didn't realize young people enjoyed operas nowadays._

Liza could kick herself. ' _What's wrong with me',_ she thought. She had to be more careful.

 _[Liza] Yeah, my parents would take me to the opera quite often when I was young. I hated it at first but as I grew older I began to really enjoy the music._

 _[Charles] If you'd be interested, there's a lovely show next week at the Metropolitan Opera House. I think you'd really enjoy it._

Was he asking her out? She scanned the message again. He didn't mention going with him. She was completely confused. How should she respond? Before she could begin typing, her phone buzzed again.

 _[Charles] I have a couple of tickets but I am not free that night. I would love it if you and Josh would use them._

She felt a wave of disappointment crash over her. She wasn't sure what she had been expecting. Had she really thought he was going to ask her out? Was she actually imagining a romantic date with Charles Brooks to the opera, followed by dinner and dancing?

She shook her head at her foolishness.

 _[Liza] I don't think Josh is much of an opera buff. But I would love to take the tickets off your hands. I'm sure I can find a friend to go with._

Charles willed himself not to type what his fingers were itching to. How he would love to be able to take her out. Have her wear the sexy dress she wore tonight, beam proudly to have a beautiful and intelligent woman like her on his arm, take her out for dinner and maybe some dancing afterwards. He was tempted, sorely tempted, to do it. To just give in to what his heart so very clearly wanted and just ask her out. Boyfriends, professional relationships, propriety be damned.

But he was Charles Brooks. He could be impulsive when he followed his heart. But for the most part he followed his brain. And even though Liza had greatly upset that balance in his life, and made him lose control on more occasions than he would've liked, tonight he was going to do the right thing.

 _[Charles] Come see me in my office tomorrow and I'll give them to you. Good night, Liza. See you tomorrow._

And in two different part of New York, two sets of lights were put out, two people settled into their respective beds, two tormented minds wrestled with sleep and two hearts beat for each other even though neither was prepared to admit it.


	11. Chapter 11

**A/N:** Happy new year everyone! Here's the next chapter, which is my longest yet. This one is based across the events of a number of episodes in Season 3. Thank you again for all your lovely reviews... they are the best encouragement so keep em' coming! Hope you enjoy this one :)

 **Disclaimer:** I don't own Younger, any of its characters or their scripts and stories.

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Chapter 11

He shifted uncomfortably in his seat. Was it hot in here? His shirt was sticking to him, his palms felt clammy. He couldn't breathe. He reached up and loosened his tie, which suddenly felt like a noose around his neck. He could feel his pulse in his throat, throbbing with every word she was saying.

"I lay on the bed quivering, my hands lingering over my panties. I could feel my woman pulse throbbing through the lace…"

Liza's gentle, almost husky voice was loud in the quiet room… flowing over him like the richest, warmest honey. Engulfing him in its sweetness. Igniting in him a hunger that he hadn't felt in the longest time but that had been making an appearance with uncomfortable regularity recently. That deep, primitive tug which was all lust, shutting his brain down and sending his heart racing.

"And as I slid my fingers inside... towards the place no man could ever fully penetrate, I felt my flower begin to blossom..."

It was too much for him. He was aware of Radha's disapproving look. But really she had faded into the blurry background. All he could see clearly was Liza … up on the stage… reading those words… those ridiculous words that sounded sexy as fuck coming out of her mouth… in that sexy as fuck voice… a voice trembling with uncertainty… but that only served to add to the jolts of pleasure she was sending straight to his groin.

The currently dormant and suppressed logical part of his brain found it hard to comprehend the effect she had on him. Sitting in a room full of people, it was as if she was holding a private reading, just for him.

The lust-filled and more active part of his brain was flooded with images… of her, in bed with him, reading the same words, while he held her in his arms, kissed every inch of her that he could reach, before tossing the book from her hands and worshipping her all night long.

He needed help. Good god, he needed help. The woman was driving him insane and lord save him, he was loving every minute of it.

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His heart was racing again. But this time it was with worry, as he rushed to the hospital. Panic had set in. Was she okay? Was she badly hurt? He needed to be there. To be with her. It didn't strike him that he really had no place there. That she would have her friends, family, boyfriend with her. All he knew was that he had to be there. He thanked his stars that Diana had thought to inform the Empirical legal team, who in turn had informed him. Otherwise he would never have known.

That Radha was angry with him for abandoning her and rushing to be by Liza's side held little significance for him. That he shared no relationship with Liza beyond that of a boss, and maybe a friend, at a stretch, was of no importance. All that mattered was to get to her and make sure that she was alright.

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Her brain was all woozy. She pressed the button again and felt the pleasant buzz of morphine shoot through her veins. A goofy grin spread across her face. _'What a beautiful room I'm in,'_ she thought looking around. _'Beautiful, beautiful, beautiful'._

A show tune started playing in her head and she really wanted to sing along but her brain wouldn't cooperate and she couldn't form the words. She giggled because the song was now in a chipmunk voice. But there weren't any chipmunks in the room… and could chipmunks sing? She was sure they could, bopping her head to the beat in her mind.

Suddenly the door opened and she looked up. The most beautiful, ethereal god had just entered the room… radiant and tall. No wait! It was one of those historic Roman gladiators… tall, broad, muscular. Wait, wait, she shook her head… that wasn't right. It was a Hollywood star – handsome, hunky, staring at her with grave concern. Why? Did she have snot on her face? Spinach in her teeth? When had she last eaten spinach?

The handsome man approached her bed, and the fog in her brain cleared a little. It was Charles! Her Charles! Her gorgeous, intelligent, sexy, incredible Charles. No, no, not _her_ Charles. Just Charles. Boss Brooks. Charles Brooks. Her Charles.

'Heeeyyyyy!' she said. But why had it come out so shrill and sing-songy? It was too complicated to figure out. She settled for grinning at him.

"Hi," he said softly. "You okay? Is it your arm?" He sounded worried.

That voice though… it flowed through her veins along with the morphine and did a heck of a better job dulling the throbbing in her collarbone.

"Are you in pain?" he was asking her. And it was so sweet. Her heart melted. Concern shone in his eyes. He was sitting so close to her, she could smell his cologne and it was distracting. He was leaning forward, genuine worry reflected in every handsome feature of his face. His presence had warmed the room and made her feel better than she had felt since she'd gone flying off that bike. She was feeling all gooey and mushy and melted chocolate-like on the inside and she the strangest urge to giggle loudly. Her eyes wandered down to his hands, placed gently on the bed, next to her.

And before she knew it, her hand crept towards his and she interlocked her fingers with his. A jolt of electricity shot up her arm the moment her skin touched his. His hand was soft, warm, large… it was _home._ Her hand fit perfectly in his, like it was made for him to hold.

She smiled softly. "I'm feeling much better now."

His piercing blue eyes were looking at her, gazing deeply into her own warm, brown ones… and in that moment she knew that she couldn't deny these feelings. Maybe it was the morphine… or the comforting feel of her soft small hand in his large manly one… or the fact that all she wanted was for him to climb into the hospital bed with her and hold her tightly. But she needed him to know. He deserved to know the truth. And once he knew, she would tell him just how much he had come to mean to her. And just how much she wanted to explore this connection they had. And just how much she wanted to kiss him and hold him and do so, so much more with him.

"I should let you rest."

He was leaving… No, no. He couldn't leave. He _needed_ to know. She had to tell him. _Now_.

"No, wait. Wait! I want to tell you something," she said. The words weren't coming. Her brain was all foggy. She felt like she was blacking out. She struggled to keep her eyes open. She needed to talk to him but her mind had gone blank and her vision was going dark. Wait, wait, _wait_ … but the morphine had done its job. And the room was filled with the soft sounds of her snoring.

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 _[Charles] I meant what I said today Liza… I'm really glad to have you back._

He was feeling bold. He no longer cared. He was attracted to her. He knew there was a connection there. He hadn't felt this way about anyone… not even his wife. Liza brought out a side of him he didn't even know he possessed. He wanted her. He needed her. And he was done playing by the rules.

 _[Liza] Thank you for visiting me at the hospital Charles. My memory of of that night is a bit fuzzy but I do remember you being there._

 _[Charles] You had me worried, Liza. Really worried._

Did he mean what she thought he meant? Or was she reading too much into his words? He was confusing her. She had vague recollections of the night she spent in the hospital. She remembered him being there. She remembered how happy she was feeling while he was by her side. She had some strange memories of holding his hand. But surely not, she had never held his hand.

 _[Liza] Don't worry, I was never planning to sue Empirical._

Wait, had she already said to him before? She couldn't remember. Suddenly she became aware of her phone ringing. Glancing down, she grinned as she saw his name flash across the screen.

"Hi," she said, answering quickly.

"That's not what I meant, Liza," his soft voice had her heart humming.

"I know," she replied, her voice low and husky, sending tremors of pleasure coursing through his body. "I… I know what you meant, Charles… I think."

She sounded hesitant. And suddenly he knew he had to tell her, openly and honestly, how he felt about her. How much he wanted to get to know her better, to take her out on dates, to kiss her again, to hold her hand, to make love to her. He didn't want there to be any doubt in her mind about where he stood.

"Liza, I…" he began when he heard a loud crash from upstairs and the sound of crying.

"Shit!" he exclaimed, leaping up from the couch.

"Is everything okay Charles?" Liza asked in panic. She had heard what sounded like an almighty thud through the phone.

"I think one of the girls is hurt," Charles was worried and slightly breathless as he took the stairs two at a time. "I'll have to speak to you later Liza. I'm sorry."

"No, no… go. I hope the girls are alright. Call me if you need…" Before she could finish the sentence, he had hung up.

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"Nicole! Hurry up honey. We're going to be late," Charles yelled from the bottom of the staircase before walking into the kitchen where his other daughter was busy colouring with her babysitter.

"You sure you don't want to come with us Bianca?" he asked, kissing the top of her head.

"Yes daddy," she answered, without looking up from her colouring book. "Bird watching is borrriiiiing."

Charles chuckled and gave her another quick kiss. "Okay, you be good for Susan then," he said smiling at the babysitter.

"Is Liza going to be there?" asked Nicole, walking in, struggling with her coat.

"Ummm… I think so," said Charles helping his daughter get her arms through the sleeves.

"Liza?" exclaimed Bianca, all interest in the colouring book lost. "I want to go to too daddy!" she wailed.

Charles laughed. "Bianca honey, I just asked you if you wanted to go and you said no!"

"But daddyyyyyy…" began Bianca.

"No sweetie. It's getting late now and we have to get going. Besides, your arm needs all the rest it can get." He would never forgive himself for Bianca's sprained wrist. He hadn't ever felt panic like he had when she had screamed from upstairs while he was talking to Liza. His girls had been jumping on their bed, despite him having forbidden this a thousand times, and Bianca had tumbled off and landed on her arm. Thank god nothing had broken and her left wrist was only sprained. She had bawled a lot initially but now she was very proud of the mini cast they had put on her arm and was having a whale of a time ordering her big sister around and getting waited on hand and foot.

Charles could see Bianca's lower lip quivering and he knew he was in for a cranky goodbye.

"Tell you what," he said, quickly swinging into damage control mode. "I'm going to tell Liza about your sprained wrist and ask her if she'd like to come and visit you. Would you like that?"

The damage control worked and Bianca grinned, "Yes please daddy."

Charles chuckled, "Okay then. Now you be good and make sure you eat everything Susan gives you for lunch. We'll be back in a couple of hours."

And with a quick kiss for Bianca and a wave to the babysitter, Charles ushered his older daughter out the door and into the waiting car.

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Charles smiled as he watched Nicole showing off her 'tattoo' to Liza. It was tearing him up inside that Liza was here with Josh but everything else ceased to matter when he watched the joy on his little girl's face. It had been a tough year for them but they had come through it and to see Nicole bounce around and laugh like she used to was like a balm for his aching heart.

As he watched, Liza bent down and examined Nicole's arm, the two of them giggling at something Liza said. His heart expanded with affection. He loved watching his daughters with Liza. She had such a wonderful way with them. And they loved her. He hadn't seen them as open and as interactive with anyone else as they were with her.

Nicole came bounding over to him and threw her arms around his waist, Liza in tow.

He grinned down at his daughter before looking up and smiling at the beautiful woman in front of him who was squinting at him adorably in the sunlight.

"Charles!" she said, "Why didn't you tell me Bianca hurt her arm so badly? Is she alright? Can I come and see her?" Worry creased Liza's face.

Charles looked down at Nicole, who grinned up at him cheekily. He couldn't help but chuckle at his clever daughter, who had clearly painted a far more dramatic picture of Bianca's injury than reality.

"Why are the two of you laughing?" asked Liza, mock annoyance on her face as she looked from father to daughter.

Charles laughed again and handed Liza a glass of champagne. "Because I bet this little bird watcher here has told you a grossly exaggerated version of what happened. Am I right Nicole?"

"I spotted a woodpecker. Bye daddy, Liza!" giggled Nicole, running away.

Charles and Liza laughed, watching her as she whipped out her binoculars and notebook and pencil. Their eyes met and they smiled softly at each other.

"So is Bianca okay?" she asked, shading her eyes against the bright sun as she stepped closer to him.

He caught a whiff of her perfume and it made him want to pull her to him and kiss her. He realised she had asked him a question and was looking at him with a puzzled expression on her face.

He cleared his throat. "Uh… sorry. Yeah, she's alright. That night when we were talking on the phone and I had to suddenly hang up?"

Liza nodded. She remembered the panic in his voice, the sound of that awful scream.

"Well, the girls had been indulging in their favourite forbidden pastime of jumping on the bed and Bianca tumbled off and landed on her arm."

"Oh my god!" exclaimed Liza.

"Yeah," said Charles, shaking his head. "Sometimes I think that these girls will just be the death of me. Anyway, luckily nothing broke. It's just a sprain. And now she's very happy treating her sister and her father like nurses while she goes around showing off her cast."

They chuckled together and Liza felt her heart burst with affection for his girls and for him. She loved seeing him in father mode. His love for them reflected in everything he said and did for them.

It was ironic how much she come to love his daughters given that she was absolutely certain she did not want more kids. But those girls, and their father, had wormed their way into her heart and if she allowed herself to, she could imagine a life with Charles, helping him raise his daughters, doing the school PTAs again, helping with homework, baking together, helping them pick out clothes, worrying about them dating. It was funny how the mention of children by Josh sent her into a spiral of panic, yet the thought of being a family with Charles, his girls and Caitlin, gave her a warm and happy feeling.

She shook herself out of her thoughts, realising that Charles had asked her something and was waiting for her to answer.

"I'm sorry. I didn't catch that," she said quickly, hoping she didn't sound like a total moron.

"Ummm," Charles cleared his throat and looked almost shy. "Bianca was wondering whether you'd come by and visit her. I think she wants someone new to show off her cast to. All the rest of us have got a bit tired of it now." He laughed and Liza couldn't help but join in.

"How about now?" she asked a little hesitantly. She wanted to prolong her time with him. And she hadn't met the girls in a while now. "If you're okay with it, I can go back with you and Nicole."

"Yeah!" Charles felt his heart leap with excitement and he couldn't answer fast enough. "I mean… Yes, that's perfectly alright. The girls will be thrilled."

They grinned goofily at each other, just standing there, not saying anything, till their trance was broken by Nicole who suddenly came bounding up out of nowhere .

"Daddy, Liza… let's go home," she said, grabbing each of their hands in hers and dragging them to the car.

It was much later that Charles stopped to wonder how his daughter had known that Liza had agreed to come home with them.

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"Lizaaaaaaaaaaaa!"

They could hear Bianca yelling in delight even before they opened the door. She had clearly been watching from the window and had seen Liza step out of the car with Charles and Nicole.

"Oooof," grunted Liza as a tiny body slammed into legs as soon as she entered the house.

Grinning, she squatted down. "Hello little Miss Bianca Brooks… I hear you've been training to be an acrobat?"

Bianca giggled and held out her arm proudly.

"Whoa! That's quite a cast," said Liza as Charles chuckled quietly behind her.

Bianca nodded. "It hurt too," she said with a smirk. "A lot. But I was brave. And I didn't cry at all."

"Wow!" said Liza, pretending to be very impressed as Nicole looked up at Charles and rolled her eyes.

Charles laughed and pulled Nicole closer to him. "Okay girls, how about we go in, be good hosts and offer Liza something to drink?"

Nicole and Bianca grinned and grabbed Liza's hands, dragging her into the kitchen.

Charles paid the babysitter and then hanging up his and Nicole's coats, he wandered towards the kitchen, stopping in the doorway and watching the scene unfolding before him.

Liza sat between his girls at the island, cookies and glasses of milk spread in front of them. He watched as she told them stories, making up funny voices, acting goofy and sending his kids into fits of laughter. He watched as she fell silent and listened with rapt attention to everything the girls said to her, making them feel that their stories and conversations held great meaning for her. He watched as Nicole broke off a piece of Bianca's cookie to share with Liza and Liza broke off a piece of her own cookie to give to Bianca. He watched as his kitchen filled with sounds of laughter and happiness… sounds that he had longed for so much in the past year, sounds that had been sorely missing from his home since his wife had thrown her family away and walked out.

"Daddy, come here!" cried Nicole, suddenly noticing him in the doorway. And grinning, he walked over to sit beside his older daughter as she pushed forward the plate of cookies and glass of milk that they had set out for him. He caught Liza's eye over the girls' heads and they exchanged a quick smile.

Laughing, more freely than he had in months, he joined in on the animated conversation, his heart filling with love till it felt like it would burst with happiness. And for that evening, in that moment, his house felt like home.

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"Can Liza sleep over daddy?" asked Bianca and Charles choked on the milk he had just sipped.

Liza turned a deep shade of scarlet as he grabbed a napkin and tried to mop up the milk he had spat out.

They looked at each other, both breathtakingly aware of the reality of the possibility of her sleeping over. A familiar longing tugged at his heartstrings. The desire to kiss her, hold her, touch her, sweeping through his body again.

He smiled shyly at her and Liza felt a fierce flare of yearning ignite in her heart. Her mind buzzing with the implications of what a sleepover could, and would mean. A night spent getting to know Charles Brooks, inside and out, talking, laughing, kissing, touching… But she knew it was only a fantasy… a wild, unachievable fantasy. She shook her head at her foolishness.

Charles coughed, trying to figure out what to say. "Ummm… Well, Bianca honey… I…"

"Bianca," Nicole said, voice laced with the condescension of older sister wisdom. "We don't have a spare bed for Liza and our air mattress has a hole in it."

"Oh! Okay then," said Bianca as she went back to eating her cookie.

And the two adults in the room tried to ignore the tremors that a little girl's innocent question had caused in their hearts, minds and bodies.

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They stood at the door, waiting for the car he had called for her to arrive. The girls had hugged her goodbye and he had told them to run upstairs and wash up for dinner. The house was silent, only the distant sounds of giggling floated down from the room upstairs.

He handed her coat to her. Their fingers touched. Electricity sparked between them. He gazed down at her, lost in the chocolate pools of her eyes. Words unnecessary. His rapidly darkening eyes doing the talking.

She felt desire course through every pore of her body as she looked up at him. One step forward and she would be close enough to kiss him. She inhaled and felt her knees go wobbly at the musky scent of him.

"You should have that sleepover with the girls soon," he said, his voice low and thick with desire.

"Your air mattress has a hole in it," she replied, smiling cheekily up at him.

He chuckled and moved closer to her, the air electric, ready to combust from the weight of their desire.

Her breath quickened, she felt like she would fall. She reached out to clutch his arm for support and his eyes turned sapphire, flickering down to her lips.

He leaned forward, just a little. She was now clutching on to both his arms. He was close enough for their breaths to mingle, for the heat of his body to set hers on fire… She was sure he could hear her heart hammering against her rib cage.

"Charles…" she whispered, running her hand up his arm.

"Yes, Liza?" he said huskily, desire making it hard for him to breathe.

He leant down, lips hovering just inches away from hers… when the sound of loud honking from outside caused them to break apart.

They both blinked, frozen for a couple of seconds as the haze of lust cleared. Liza's car had arrived.

They stared at each other, smiling shyly, trying to normalise their breathing. She was still holding onto his arm.

The thundering sounds of Nicole and Bianca running down the stairs forced them to step away from each other quickly, albeit reluctantly.

"Liza! You're still here," exclaimed Nicole happily.

"Just leaving girls. Uh… bye," she bent down, hugging each of them before they ran into the kitchen.

And then nervously, she glanced up at Charles. Her breath caught in her throat at the smouldering look he was giving her. She could feel the desire emanating from his body and it was calling to her.

"Bye, Charles," she said, her voice coming out huskier than she intended and the look on his face told her just what the sound was doing to him.

"Bye, Liza," his voice was rich and thick with longing. "See you at the office."

As she stepped out and he shut the door behind her, his home felt just a little bit less warm than before.


	12. Chapter 12

**A/N:** I must apologise profusely for the delay in posting this. It has taken me VERY long to write, I'm not quite sure why. But nonetheless, here you go. I hope you enjoy it. Thank you again for all your lovely reviews on previous chapters. As I always say, your words are what keep me going and provide me great joy and encouragement, so keep em' coming! Happy reading :)

 **Disclaimer:** I don't own Younger, any of its characters or their scripts, dialogues and stories.

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Chapter 12

 **The Hamptons**

He could hear the faint sounds of someone groaning from behind one of the doors as he approached the row of rooms after his golfing session. He soon figured the noise was emanating from Liza's room, stopping in front of her semi-ajar door.

He knew she had gone to the beach, having bumped into her when he was leaving for golf. His heart had almost hammered right through his rib cage at the sight of her in that bathing suit. And it had taken every ounce of self control and remembering every last one of the gentlemanly manners his mother had taught him to not let his eyes rake over her beautiful body.

He shook himself out of his thoughts, as the groaning grew louder. He approached her door and knocked.

"Liza?" he called softly, wondering whether he should go in. "Are you alright?"

There was no answer.

"Liza?" he said, a little louder, worry now gnawing at him. He pushed the door open and stepped inside. "I'm coming in".

He caught sight of her sitting on her bed, trying in vain to reach her back, which was scorched red.

"Liza!" he exclaimed. "What happened?"

She spun around, and then yelped.

"Charles!" she said, biting her lip in pain. "Hi. Sorry, you startled me. I didn't hear you come in."

"What happened?" he asked again, worry creasing his face as he stepped closer.

"A couple too many drinks, passing out in the sun, not enough suntan lotion, and…" she shrugged, wincing as the movement made her raw, sunburnt back prickle with pain.

He nodded sympathetically, "Is there anything I can do?"

She looked up at him, and despite the burning sensation that was shooting down her back, thought just how adorable he looked, standing in his shorts and t-shirt, looking totally helpless and worried… about her. She smiled.

"Well… actually, if you don't mind…" she started.

"Not at all, Liza," he said quickly, stepping closer to the bed. "What do you need?"

' _You'_ said her brain. _'Shut up'_ she told herself and held out a tube of aloe vera gel to him.

"I can't reach most of the burnt skin. Would you mind…" she hesitated.

"Not at all," he said, willing his hand not to shake as he took the tube from her.

' _Just ointment on a sunburn, that's all it is'_ he told himself as he unscrewed the cap.

He shook his head, squeezed the gel onto his fingers and sat down on the bed behind her.

' _That is all it is.'_

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She moaned softly as his fingers ran gently over her sunburnt back and he clenched his other fist to stop himself from snaking his arm round her waist and pulling her towards him. He tried to concentrate on the task at hand – rubbing the cool gel on her burns, and _not_ on the smooth, taut skin beneath his fingers, the soft flesh, naked and exposed right in front of him, the sounds she was making were driving him to distraction and sending the blood rushing out of his brain and down southwards.

"Is that better?" his voice came out in an unexpectedly hushed whisper, his breath tickling the back of her neck, goosebumps breaking out all over her skin.

The air was electric. She could so easily turn around and kiss him. They were already sitting on her bed. It would take little for things to heat up. And judging by the raspy tones of his voice, he was feeling as turned on as she was.

"Yes," she murmured. "Thank you. That really helped."

Neither of them moved. His fingers still lingered over her skin, absentmindedly tracing patterns on her shoulder blade, sending tingles of pleasure down her spine. Before she could stop herself, a soft moan escaped her and with that sound his resolve went to shit.

He leaned forward imperceptibly but enough that she was breathtakingly aware of the heat from his body against her almost bare back.

"Liza," he whispered in her ear, his hot breath hitting her skin.

"Yes, Charles?" she said, trembling with desire, leaning back into his voice, into his broad, solid chest.

"I want to…" he said softly…

"LIZA!" came Diana's voice, booming down the corridor, from her room a few doors away.

Charles shot up off the bed and cleared his throat.

Liza jumped up too, wincing at the sudden movement. "Uhh… That's Diana," she muttered, her face turning almost the same shade as her burnt back.

"Uh… right. Absolutely," stuttered Charles, absentmindedly wiping his gel covered hands on his shorts. "You should go."

She looked at him longingly, aching to rewind a few seconds. Wanting desperately to be back on the bed, with his body almost pressed against hers, his hot breath in her ear, his long fingers stroking her back.

She shuddered with pleasure and then sighed as Diana yelled again.

"I should," she said reluctantly, trying to pull out some clothes to put on over her bikini.

"Right," he said, walking towards the door.

He suddenly turned to look at her. "Liza…"

"Yes Charles?" she looked at him questioningly.

He looked like he was going to say something but stopped himself.

"Take care of that burn."

And then he was gone.

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Berlin? She liked Berlin! He could hardly believe it. Someone as young as her into the same kind of music he listened to in his childhood. Yet there she was, swaying enthusiastically to the music, singing along with the words, happiness reflected in every feature of her face.

He could have just spent hours watching her… the dim, pink light of the bar making her face glow, the big beautiful smile that got wider with every drink she had, their shoulders bumping together as they moved with the music, the warmth of her presence next to him, at his childhood haunt, as he told her story after story about himself and his youth.

He couldn't remember the last time he felt this comfortable, this happy, this fulfilled.

And tonight, he was finding it hard to control himself. His fingers itched to comb through her hair. He struggled to stop himself from snaking his arm around her waist. He found himself moving closer and closer to her as the night went on.

Each time she leaned in to speak to him, he caught a whiff of her perfume. And each time he wondered what would happen if he just leaned forward and kissed her. Would she hate him for it? Ever since New Jersey, he had wanted nothing more than to kiss her again, and this time hold her close and make it last. And finally, _finally,_ tell her just how he felt.

He knew he had to. He was done playing games. Tonight was the night.

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' _Watching every motion_ _…_ _In my foolish lover's game'_

As the first strains of the song started playing, he felt his heart rate speed up. The lighting was dim, the music slow and sensual, people in love swaying around them… all of it had set the most romantic mood.

And next to him was a woman who had driven him crazy for so many months now that he could hardly remember a time when she had not been in his life. He loved talking to her, he loved being around her, he loved discussing literature with her, he loved watching his children interact with her… he loved kissing her.

But tonight… tonight he needed to hold her. And the setting could not have been more perfect.

He suddenly felt inexplicably shy. Tall, powerful, CEO, Charles Brooks had been reduced to a gawky, awkward teenager, nervous about asking a pretty girl to dance with him.

He smiled at his own foolishness as he tilted his head a little to look at her. She had a beautiful smile on her face and strangely enough she was looking a little nervous too. He felt slightly emboldened as she caught his eye and grinned at him again.

He turned towards her, willing the words to come out of his mouth but failing to form a single coherent sentence and was left holding his arms up in an awkward semi-dance gesture.

He blushed, realizing just how silly he must look to her, when he realized that she had stepped closer to him. And then her warm, soft hand was in his and her other hand was placed gently on his shoulder… and just that touch sent a shiver of pleasure running through him as he felt her body heat mingle with his.

His fingers encircled her hand, holding it gently but firmly and he loved how she fitted into his palm. His other arm slipped easily around her waist, pulling her a little closer.

And then with the well-practiced ease of a couple that had been dancing with each other for years, they began swaying to the music.

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She gazed up into his blue eyes, feeling like she was drowning in the deep sapphire pools. Once more, the world around them disappeared. It was just him and her. Swaying gently to the music that surrounded them. Ensconced in their own little cocoon. Lost in each other. She felt a need for him, a desire for him that defied reason. But tonight she didn't really care.

All that mattered was this moment. This wonderful, beautiful, intimate moment, feeling his warm hand on her lower back, his strong arm gripping her waist. His hand holding hers in a way that was gentle, yet firm enough to convey his desire. Tonight she felt a sense of carefree abandon… everything that had held her back all these months suddenly vanished. Her lie, her age, her dead end relationship with Josh – it was all wiped clean from her mind. And all she could see, all that pervaded her every thought was the man standing in front of her, smiling at her like she was the most important person in the world.

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"Oh, my God. This song," she said, smiling at him, lost in the moment, in the song, in him. "It was my..."

She stopped herself just in time. It was a dangerous game she was playing. So overcome by the moment, by the man, that she had forgotten herself.

"… babysitter's prom song," she recovered quickly, hoping he hadn't noticed her hesitation.

She sighed in relief when he continued chatting as if nothing had happened.

"This is the song that was playing the first time that Tori Stevens and I..." he said, looking shyly at her. And she fell in love with him a little more. He was revealing a side of himself that she knew he didn't show just anyone. And she wanted him to know just how much she appreciated it. Just how much she loved getting this little glimpse into Charles Brooks, the man and not the CEO and office boss. She wanted to stroke his cheek and hold him close and listen to him talk and tell her stories all night long.

She smiled softly at him, encouraging him to go one.

"I'm telling you way too many stories about myself," he said, dropping his gaze to the ground.

"No, not at all," she said quickly, desperately wanting him to believe her. "I like hearing them."

There was a fractional pause as he looked at her. His eyes conveying a thousand words, a million emotions…

And then he dropped his gaze again and in a voice so low that she almost didn't hear him, he said, "I like you."

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"I like you."

Had he just said that? Had she heard him wrong? No she hadn't. She was sure she hadn't.

She felt an onslaught of raw physical desire surge through her and before she knew it, she leaned forward and captured his lips with hers. It wasn't like her to be this bold, this forward. But she couldn't stop herself. She needed this. She needed him.

She felt his arm go around her as he pulled her into him. She felt the hard planes of his chest against hers. She could feel his heart going a million miles a minute as their lips fused. Time stood still. The world vanished. She felt like she would combust with desire for him. And she didn't want the moment to end.

They stood like that, lips locked for what felt like too short a time before he pulled away and looked searchingly into her eyes. It was as though he was seeking assurance from her that she really wanted this. She could see it written plain on his face as if he had said it out loud – he was worried that he was taking advantage of her, worried that she had been forced into a situation that she didn't want to be in.

And in that moment, her heart melted further and before he could say anything, she stepped closer to him, planted her hands firmly on his back and pulled him into her body as she molded her mouth to his in a way that she hoped left no doubt in his mind about just how much she wanted this.

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His head was exploding. He was seeing stars. He was trying to think straight but her lips moving against his were driving him to distraction and rendering his brain completely useless.

She was kissing him. _She_ was kissing _him._ Any questions he had about whether he was behaving inappropriately with her, pushing her into a situation that made her uncomfortable, went flying out of his brain when her lips descended on his.

Every movement of her soft lips against his, every soft sigh that escaped her as he deepened the kiss, every probe of her tongue against his mouth stripped away his restraint. And he found himself holding her tightly against his body, never wanting to let go, never wanting to stop touching her.

They realized almost at the same moment that the music had stopped. The world came back into focus as they reluctantly stepped away from each other. His body missing her heat almost immediately.

He smiled at her as she looked up at him shyly. He stroked her cheek gently with his finger, leaning in to kiss her softly on the cheek.

"Let's get out of here," he whispered in her ear, feeling her shudder as his hot breath hit her skin.

And she nodded as their cumulative desire washed over her.

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The walk back to the hotel was full of awkward chitter chatter. Neither quite knew what to say. Everything they said seemed to have a double meaning. It was hard to keep her hands off him. She wanted nothing more than to kiss him again. She knew there was a lot she had to sort through… for starters, she needed to tell him her real age. But as she felt his shoulder brushing hers on the walk back, her desire for him overshadowed every other thought.

They stopped outside her door. She unlocked the room and then turned towards him, keenly aware of how close he was standing. The air crackled with electricity. The unsaid possibility of him spending the night with her hung heavily around them.

She knew she wanted it. He knew he wanted it. All that remained for was for one of them to say the words.

He stepped forward, his intentions evident in every movement of his body. She looked up at him, her need for him shining in her eyes. He couldn't resist her. Not for a second longer. And bending down, he kissed her, rubbing her lips softly with his before deepening the kiss.

She grabbed his blazer, desire sweeping her body. Her trembling knees threatening to give way, she pulled him in close, feeling the entire length of his body against hers, breaths mingling, his hands playing at her waist, as she plunged her tongue into his mouth, fusing their lips together.

She felt faintly dizzy as the intensity of his kiss sent all the blood rushing out of her brain and humming through her veins at lightning speed. She clutched his arms and aligned her body with his, feeling his desire as she pressed up against him. It would take little for her to pull him into her room and discover for herself everything that lay beneath the suited and booted Charles Brooks. God knows, she had waited and wanted long enough.

But she also knew that the connection between them was something special… something she had never felt with anyone else. He brought out a side of her that she didn't know existed and she knew that she owed it to herself, to him, to _them_ , to do this right.

She pulled away reluctantly, looking up into his glazed eyes, as they both inhaled deeply, as though suddenly remembering to breathe again.

"This feels so good, but I still haven't quite figured out things with my... with Josh," she whispered, feeling him stiffen under her hands at the mention of his name, and she hated herself for it.

She wanted to reassure him that he was all she wanted, that Josh was a mistake she wanted to erase, that he had ceased to mean anything more than a friend to her. But as she looked up at him, she realized he was staring at something behind her, inside her room.

She spun around and froze as she saw the rose petals strewn on the bed and before she could turn and explain, he had walked away.

' _Stop'_ she wanted to shout as she stared at his slumped shoulders. And her heart shattered.

'Stay,'she whispered but he was already gone.

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He clutched his glass of scotch tightly in his hand… Staring unseeingly into the gold liquid, set aglow by the light of the lamp reflected through the patterned glass.

His head was swimming – a combination of the amount of alcohol he had drunk that evening and everything that had occurred over the last few hours. He looked up at the ceiling, willing the dizziness to dissipate so he could go to bed. So he could fall into a tormented sleep, but one that would at least release him from the realms of consciousness. Take him away from the real world. Away from everything that had just been snatched from him.

His eyes were a little unfocused, the warming buzz of the scotch racing through his veins, as images of Liza's bed strewn with rose petals swam before him. _Marry Me_.

He shook his head. He should have known. He should have realized months ago that he was the outsider. The one trying to push his way into her life. How had he ever imagined that this young, beautiful 26 year old would want him, a 43 year old, almost-divorced, father who came with enough baggage to scare anyone off.

He wasn't usually prone to delusions but somehow he had managed to fool himself very successfully over the last few months. He shook his head, a bad idea as a wave nausea washed over him.

His phone buzzed on the table near him, though it took him a few seconds to identify the sound. He picked it up and tried to focus on the screen.

 _[Liza] Charles… I am so sorry. Please let me explain. It's not what you think._

He sighed, staring at her words. Reading them again and again. But he couldn't bring himself to reply. Couldn't leave himself vulnerable again. Couldn't destroy her life like this. She deserved so much better than him.

His phone vibrated in his hand again.

 _[Liza] Charles? Are you asleep? We have to talk. In person. Please…_

He set his glass down and rubbed his eyes tiredly. He was done. He turned off his phone, put it face down on his bedside table and climbed into bed.

He lay between the sheets, the lights off, staring up at the ceiling, fighting off the dizziness that was engulfing him. And as the silence of the dark night closed in around him, he felt his eyes shut and sleep take over. The scotch had done its job.

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"Liza..."

"Hey."

"I just wanted to apologize for intruding on..."

"You don't have to apologize."

"I'm sure you know how fond I am of you. But I never meant to step between a happy couple. And I can assure you, I won't be stepping in again. Good luck with Josh."


	13. Chapter 13

**A/N:** Hello all... Thank you for all your wonderful reviews and encouragement to keep writing. I am thoroughly enjoying writing these two. Here's the next chapter... this one takes a little bit of a different turn. I feel like Season 4 onwards is when we really started getting to know Charles Brooks. So this is my attempt at delving deeper into his character and of course continuing this wonderful love story. As I always say, your words are what keep me going and provide me great joy and encouragement, so keep em' coming! Happy reading :)

 **Disclaimer:** I don't own Younger, any of its characters or their scripts, dialogues and stories.

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Chapter 13

Charles Brooks hadn't always been a rule-follower. As a child, Charles had found many, many ways to frustrate his parents.

At the age of 9, he refused to read any of the books his parents bought him unless they were comics, even going so far as to bury a couple of them in the backyard.

At the age of 12, he lied and told his parents that he had to stop reading entirely because his baseball coach had said he needed to protect his eyesight to be able to hit a curve ball.

At the age of 14, his mother had caught him smoking in the bathroom and instead of lecturing him or telling his father, she had handed him a book about lung cancer, which he promptly tossed to the back of his bookshelf.

At the age of 15, he had snuck out of the house with his girlfriend and stayed out all night, only to return the next morning to find his house crawling with cops and his parents out in their cars, searching for him.

But all that changed the year he turned 16. That was the year his father had his first heart attack.

As he sat in the hospital, his mother clutching his hand so hard that her nails left a faint but permanent scar on his palm, his entire world turned upside down. He suddenly faced the prospect of life without the man who had been his guide, his strength, his superhero.

He remembered that morning as vividly as if it had happened yesterday. It was the morning he had seen the doctors lead his mother away and whisper something to her that had made her face turn a ghastly shade of grey. It was the morning he had realized that it wasn't his father but his mother who was the superhero of the family. It was the morning he had watched his mother square her shoulders, as though strengthening them for the burden she would have to bear, before she walked up to him with a gentle, calming smile on her lips.

She had sat down next to him and taken his hands in hers.

"Mom?" he had hated the way his voice had trembled.

But she had just smiled at him and cupped his cheek. "It's going to be okay," she had whispered, laying her forehead against his.

It was the morning he had realized that, without him knowing it, his future had already been mapped out for him.

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His father had survived the heart attack. Another couple of weeks in the hospital, and the doctors were surprised at the recovery he made. He returned home but had to take a step back from the company and spend most of his time resting, taking it easy. It made him irritable and snappy with his wife and son but the doctor's orders were clear.

And Charles had watched silently as his mother had taken on the role of wife, nurse, mother, cook, housekeeper, co-head publisher, and co-CEO of Empirical Press… and never once complained.

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From then on, Charles Brooks became the man he was now… he followed in the footsteps of his father, while modeling himself on his mother. He learnt all about publishing from his father and learnt how to run a successful company from his mother. He learnt to love literature and devour book after book from his father and learnt how to turn that love into practical business from his mother.

When the time came, he got married – to a beautiful, accomplished, intelligent woman. Was it burning, passionate, all-consuming love? Perhaps not. But it was sensible, practical, they were compatible and he genuinely loved Pauline. They had common interests. They laughed a lot, especially in the early years of their marriage. She was happy to keep house, despite his repeated offers to be a part of the business.

Pauline knew Charles to be a practical, sensible, logical man, not prone to outbursts of passion or excitement. Head of a big company, adept at business, straight laced, with the highest sense of morality and ethics.

But once in a while, he would take her by surprise – like the time he took a whole week off work and whisked her off to Italy for their anniversary, or the time he threw her a surprise birthday party and baked the cake himself, or the nights he would show up with flowers and the finest wine after work and, much to her annoyance, toss out the food she had cooked, and take her out for dinner to some expensive restaurant.

And then there were those times in bed, when the Charles Brooks she knew in the day disappeared, and it seemed like a different man was making love to her – one who was primal, demanding, passionate. One who would rip her clothes off, sending buttons scattering everywhere, before pushing her up against the wall. One who wasn't shy about articulating exactly what he wanted to do to her. And what he wanted her to do to him. One who would surprise her in the shower, who would let his hand wander in the movie hall, who had no qualms about a quickie behind a closed ride at Disney World.

It wasn't often that Charles allowed Pauline this glimpse of himself. And it wasn't often that Pauline embraced this side of her husband. She liked things planned and pre-prepared.

Over time, sensing her lack of enthusiasm, he did it less and less, and over time Pauline realized that she and her husband had drifted so far apart that he didn't even notice when they went weeks, even months without making love.

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When his daughters were born, Charles felt love like he had never known before. He experienced joy and excitement like he hadn't felt since before he was 16 years old. As he held each of them in his arms, he knew that everything he worked for, everything he had sacrificed, was for them. And he also knew that he would make sure that his children would never have to give up any of their dreams.

When his mother could no longer be an active part of the business, Charles took over. For all intents and purposes he was taking over his father's company. But he knew that the successful publishing empire he inherited was largely his mother's doing.

Charles became CEO and he and Pauline became the 'it' couple of the publishing world. He was the charming, handsome publishing magnate and she was his beautiful wife and the perfect hostess. Their parties were always the talk of the town and them and their two daughters appeared to everyone as the picture perfect happy family.

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The day Pauline walked out was burned into Charles' memory. That was the day he felt like he was 16 again and back in that hospital room. To say he was blindsided was an understatement. As he sat on their bed, her letter in one hand and her copy of Freedom in the other, he realized that once again, it was up to him to step up. He needed to be there for his two girls… his two little babies, who would need him now more than ever, whose innocence he would guard with his life and whose childhoods he would do his best to ensure would remain unscarred by their mother's abandonment.

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Over the next year he became a single father, caregiver, cook, housekeeper, bedtime story reader, homework helper, chauffeur, cough medicine giver and chief boo boo kisser. He ran his business, learnt to host parties single-handedly, grew his publishing empire and still made it home in time to cook dinner for his girls and listen to stories about their day.

His life became all about his company and his girls. And really, he didn't mind. Because as he had realized over his lifetime, people, hopes, dreams… they all disappear. And the less time he spent thinking about them, the better it was for him. He needed to focus on his family's company and on the two most precious people in his life.

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And then along comes Liza. Tall, beautiful, intelligent, sassy Liza. And everything he has taught himself to be from the age of 16 is suddenly under threat. Every door to his soul, his personality, his heart that he has shut, is being pushed open by her.

She challenges him. She excites him. She connects with him in a way that no one he had ever met in his life has. She questions him. She reminds him of everything he had dreamt of being in his youth. She awakens in him desires and passions that had long been buried under practicality and responsibility. When he's with Liza, Charles feels the beast of youthful rebellion awaken from its slumber deep within his chest.

Liza makes him forget. She makes him forget that he is her boss. That she is an assistant in his company. That he shouldn't be falling for an employee. That she is almost half his age. That he fits every single stereotype of a middle-aged divorced man. He forgets it all when he's with her. Her wit, her intelligence, her beauty, her exuberance, her delightful personality, her sunny smile… it overshadows everything bad in his life.

She makes him want to be who he truly is. Before his life became charted and mapped. Before his existence was just a series of responsibilities. She makes him want to be better. She makes him want to live. She makes him want to feel alive.

And that's why he finds he can't stay away from her.

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 **Hemingway Exhibition, Present Day**

They walked side by side. It was later than either anticipated the evening would get. He had just shared with her one of the most intimate and personal parts of his life. She was humbled and honoured to have had this glimpse into his life, his childhood, his past. She felt like he was giving her the chance to know the man behind the façade of CEO, the man behind the buttoned up shirts and tightly knotted ties.

"That was a wonderful evening," she said shyly as they walked through the park. "Thank you, Charles."

He smiled at her, his heart lighter than it had been in many weeks. He looked into her eyes searchingly and saw only genuine honesty shining back at him.

"The Hemingway collection…" he stopped by the bridge, placing his hands on the railing and staring into the distance. "… This collection is very precious to me."

She stood next to him, hands close enough to his to be almost touching but not quite.

"Then why are you selling it?" she asked softly, not wanting to seem like she was prying. "I know I already asked you this at the exhibition but…"

She stopped as he looked down at her quickly.

"But what?" he asked, his eyes challenging her to be truthful.

She jutted her chin out defiantly and decided to be bold. "But I think you're lying. To me or to yourself, I'm not sure. But there's something deeper at play here."

He looked away from her, staring once again into the dark distance. And then sighing, he grabbed her hand and pulled her to a bench nearby.

Sitting down, he breathed in deeply. There was a moment of silence before he looked deep into her eyes and said, "The truth?"

She looked down at her hand, still in his, and nodded. She felt his grip on her fingers tighten and squeezed back reassuringly, encouraging him to go on.

"There is a lot that I am thankful to my parents for," he began softly. "Everything I am today is because of them. And I miss them. Very much. All the time."

He fell silent. Leaning back into the bench, he stared unseeingly into distance, lost in his memories. He didn't let go of her hand. She rubbed her thumb over his knuckles gently, letting him know that she didn't want to push him. That he could take his time. She was in no hurry.

"Empirical was started by my grandfather," he started up again. "My father began interning at the office right out of high school. He always knew he wanted to continue the family business, make it grow."

Liza listened intently, watching as he swallowed the lump that formed in his throat at the mention of his father. She wanted him to go on but was scared to break the silence. So she waited.

"When I was 16, my father fell gravely ill. We weren't sure he was going to pull through," he said thickly, swallowing hard before clearing his throat, blinking rapidly, eyelids fighting the moisture pooling in his eyes. And all she wants to do is reach over and hug him. Pull him into a tight embrace and just hold him.

"He recovered eventually but he pretty much stopped going to work after that. The stress, the late nights, they weren't good for him," he cleared his throat again as his grip on her hand grew tighter.

"My mother ran the company after that. She was…" his voice broke and he had to take a moment to compose himself. "She was incredible. The way she turned the company into a publishing empire… all the while dealing with my father's illnesses, his bad temper, the house, everything. She was just… superwoman."

Liza's heart melted listening to him talk about his mother. His eyes were glassy with unshed tears, his voice thick and hoarse. He was still staring into the darkness but he clutched onto her hand like drowning man to a life raft.

"From then on, I knew," he continued. "I knew this was my destiny. Wanted or not, my fate was written and I was going to continue my grandfather's, father's and mother's work."

"Was this not what you wanted?" Liza broke in softly, continuing to rub the back of his hand with her thumb.

"Honestly?" he said, frowning. "I don't know. I never really got the chance to think about what I wanted."

Liza nodded.

"Anyway, since after high school, the company became my life. It has been my everything. It has given me all I have now and for that I am eternally grateful. I would fight for this company with my life," he said, his voice a little louder than before.

"When my wife left…" his knuckles were almost white now, he was squeezing her hand so hard. Her ring was digging into her skin but she didn't want to break contact. "When she left, my life became even more about Empirical… Empirical and the girls. Nothing else mattered. There was nothing I else I felt as passionate about, nothing that excited me anymore."

Liza looked at him sympathetically. She wished she could tell him that she knew just what spousal betrayal felt like. How it could break you. And for a second, she contemplated saying something. But this was his moment, his need to share. And she wanted to know everything he wanted to tell her.

"But…" He stopped and turned to look at her, the intense blaze in his eyes making her breath catch in her throat. "But for a long time now, I have felt myself changing. I meant what I said at the exhibition… I am selling all of it because I want to break away from the past and look towards the future. I feel like I have more to live for. I feel like there is so much more I want to do, so much more I want to be."

He had turned towards her and was holding both her hands in his now. His eyes were lit up, his face aglow with excitement. She smiled up at him.

"What brought on the change?" she asked softly.

"You," he said simply. "You, Liza."

And all the breath left her body. Her heart was hammering listening to his words. She was sure he could hear it.

He reached up and stroked her cheek and she closed her eyes and turned her face into his palm.

"You make me feel alive, Liza Miller," he whispered, laying his forehead against hers. "More alive than I have felt since I was 16."

And then his lips were on hers, his fingers tangled in her hair as he kissed her with an intensity that shook her to the core. She kissed him back with equal fervour, her hands splayed on his back, pulling him in closer, kissing him hungrily, never wanting the moment to end.

They broke apart when the need for air became impossible to ignore, but kept their fingers interlaced, neither wanting to break contact, breathing heavily as they tried to calm their racing hearts.

' _Tell him'_ said her brain. _'Tell him your truth. He deserves to know'_

He was staring at her, his blue eyes warm like the deepest ocean. He cupped her cheek again.

"You have given my life new meaning, Liza. Awakened me in a way that I hadn't thought possible when my wife walked out. And for that I will forever be in your debt," he said, leaning forward and kissing her softly.

She squeezed her eyes shut as he pulled away and willed herself not to cry. How could she tell him the truth now? How could she break his trust after everything he had told her tonight?

"Liza?" he said softly, forcing her to open her eyes and look at him. "Please don't think I said any of this to pressure you into anything. I know you just got out of a serious relationship. And believe me, the last thing I want is to force you into something that you don't want."

She started to protest but he silenced her with another soft kiss.

"Tonight was deeply emotional for me. And I am so happy that you were there as I said goodbye to some of my parents' possessions. You made it so much easier," he said, brushing her hair away from her face.

Liza nodded, still struggling to hold back the tears that were threatening to spill over any second.

"I was happy to be there," she murmured. "I… Charles, I have to…"

He placed his finger gently on her lips. "You don't have to say or do anything, Liza," he said. "I am happy to have you in my life. In whatever capacity you want to be in it."

Liza took a deep breath. Her mind was whizzing. She was overwhelmed by the intensity of what she was feeling for him. But there was a persistent voice in her head that kept telling her how wrong it would be to start something with him based on a lie.

"I… uh…" she stammered. "You're right Charles. I just got out of a serious relationship."

She had to give him credit. He tried very hard not to show it, but she could see his face fall a little. And she hated herself in that moment.

"But I am honoured that you chose me to share tonight with. You are a wonderful and strong man. And I am so happy that I get to work with you and that I hopefully get to be your friend too," she said quickly.

Charles smiled at her and gave her a quick hug before standing up. She looked up at him, worried that he was angry with her.

But his smile seemed genuine as he held his hand out to help her up.

"It's late. I'm sorry to have kept you out so long. I'll walk you to a cab," he said as she stood up.

She nodded. And side-by-side they walked into the darkness of the night.


	14. Chapter 14

**A/N:** After a 2 month break and the absolute worst writers' block I have ever experienced, I am FINALLY back with the next chapter. I wouldn't say I am completely over the block, but I hope this is a step towards it because I would really like to finish this story before the new season begins.

So here goes... Hope you enjoy it. Please let me know what you think. Your reviews keep me going and definitely help get rid of the writers' block. Happy reading :)

 **Disclaimer:** I don't own Younger, any of its characters or their scripts, dialogues and stories.

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Chapter 14

 _[Charles] Everything okay with your friend?_

Liza put down the book she was reading and picked up her phone. A smile spread across her lips when she saw whom the text was from. She sat up in bed and began typing.

 _[Liza] Well, there was a switchblade involved but it all worked out well_

 _[Charles] Sounds like an eventful evening._

 _[Liza] If you knew my friend Maggie, you wouldn't be surprised that a story about her also involved a sharp weapon of some kind._

 _[Charles] She sounds rather interesting. I'd love to meet her someday_

Liza grinned at his message. She felt weirdly excited at the prospect of Maggie and Charles meeting. Maggie always teased her about how her and Charles' idea about foreplay would be reading. But she felt like the two would get along well.

 _[Liza] Yeah, that would be great. You'd like her, I think._

And then after a pause she began typing again.

 _[Liza] I'm sorry I had to rush out on you like that. I was looking forward to that drink._

She hesitated before hitting send. She could feel the spark between them every time he was around, whenever they spoke, even when they texted. And there was a carefree part of her that just wanted to let go and give in to the attraction, give in to him and his charm and charisma. Screw her lie, forget the false image she was projecting and just have at it. In fact, Maggie had said as much to her so many times.

But there was always a part of her that held back. This thing she had with Charles, it felt real, it felt larger than just an office flirtation. And the last thing she needed was to start another relationship based on a lie.

That he was attracted to her, she knew. He had all but laid his heart out on the table. She was the one who had pushed him away, using the end of her relationship with Josh as an excuse.

But that's all it was. An excuse. The thing with Josh was just a fling at best. Sort of like a rebound reaction to her disastrous marriage.

With Charles, it was different. And that's why even though she knew she shouldn't encourage anything with him without first telling him the truth, she just couldn't help herself. Logic flew right out the window when it came to him.

The buzzing of her phone broke her out of her thoughts. She smiled broadly when she saw _Charles Brooks_ flashing across the screen.

"Hey," she said softly.

His heart leapt at the sound of her voice. It had only been a few hours since he had seen her at work, since she had been in his office, holding the scotch he handed to her, sitting just an arm's length away from him, close enough that he could smell her perfume, even feel the warmth from her body.

"Hey," he said, a little nervously. "Sorry to call you so late."

"Not at all," she said quickly. "I was just reading."

Charles sat back against the comfortable leather couch and swirled his drink around, watching the light catch in the crystal of the glass.

"What were you reading?" he asked.

"One of Belinda Lacroix's books," she replied. "Trying to see if her readers would truly miss their HEAs if we go with the Columbia professor."

Charles grinned as he looked down at the book that lay beside him on the couch. The pink cover stared back at him, the name Belinda Lacroix emblazoned at the top.

He chuckled softly.

"What's so funny?" asked Liza, grinning into the phone.

"You won't believe it, but I was doing exactly the same thing," said Charles.

Liza laughed and the sound went straight to his heart. How he wished he could make her laugh like that for the rest of his life. Watch that million-dollar smile light up her entire face.

"So why were _you_ reading one of her books?" she asked.

"I'm not really sure," he sighed. "I liked what the Columbia professor said about keeping the books real and more grounded. But then I wonder whether that's just because all the other authors we met before her were so…"

He shuddered at the memory.

"Awful, horrifying, soul crushingly bad?" finished Liza, chuckling. "I know what you mean. I guess the question we have to ask ourselves is, till what point is it okay to encourage someone to indulge in a fantasy?"

There was a pause where neither spoke. All that could be heard was the sound of their soft breathing.

The double meaning of her words wasn't lost on either of them.

Charles cleared his throat.

"Yes… uh… it's important to stay grounded in reality."

And then he added softly, "Though there is something to be said for indulging in the fantasy. Just letting go and letting it wash over you. Getting swept away and allowing yourself to be led to wherever it takes you."

She knew they were no longer talking about the book. And all she wanted was to join him in the fantasy. The fantasy of them. The fantasy of him.

But she knew, she just knew that she wanted more than a fantasy. That she needed him, and them, to be real. And that's why she needed to do this right.

"I guess it's going to be difficult for us to decide how we want to take Belinda's work forward," she said, trying to steer the conversation back to the book.

Charles shook his head and chuckled quietly to himself. What was it about this woman that he could get caught up in the fantasy of her every time they talked?

"Yes, I think it is," he said. "Let's chat tomorrow. Maybe we will have some answers after we've slept on it."

"Good night, Charles," said Liza softly.

"Good night, Liza," he replied.

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To say that he was angry was the understatement of the year. He was seething. He held his scotch glass so tightly in his hand that he was scared it might shatter into a million pieces. How poetically apt it would be though… a million shattered pieces of glass which reflected his heart at that moment.

He tried hard to focus on what his dinner companion was saying. Tried to force himself to look straight at the man sitting across the table from him. But he couldn't help himself. His eyes kept straying to the table diagonally opposite where she sat. With another man. A man the same age as him. On a date.

He couldn't understand it. She had said she wasn't ready to date again yet. She clearly had no problem with how much older he was than her. Had he misread her signals completely? Had he been completely wrong in thinking that she was interested in him?

He wasn't a man given to flights of fantasy. He considered himself a good judge of character. A good reader of people. How could he have misinterpreted the last year so badly?

His dinner finished, he once again let his gaze wander over to Liza's table. They were still there. She was laughing at something Jay said and it was like a knife to his heart. He stood up and shook his dinner companion's hand goodbye.

And then, because he was a sucker for punishment, he forced himself to walk to Liza's table.

"Liza, Jay," he said through gritted teeth, a fake smile plastered on his face. "Lovely to see you this evening. Hope you enjoy the rest of it."

His gaze never left Liza's face. She squirmed in her seat uncomfortably. It had been a miserable night. She could feel him looking at her from his table and she wished they had picked a different restaurant to go to or that Charles had picked a different restaurant or that the earth would just open up and swallow her whole.

She hated herself for being here. On this 'date'. Who was she kidding? She didn't want to be here. She was here just because Jay knew her real age and she was scared he would blab. He was a lovely man. But he was no Charles Brooks. And her heart and mind had had no space but for the CEO of Empirical Press for a long time now.

When Charles walked over to their table to say goodbye, she felt her heart hammering in her chest. When he stared at her and gave her a smile that she knew to be fake, she wanted to just disappear. And as she watched him walk away, all she wanted to do was run after him and grab onto him and never let go.

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Liza shot awake, chest heaving, hair mussed, heart hammering. It took her a moment or two to realize she was in her bed, surrounded by books she had knocked out of the bookshelf behind her head.

She was not in Charles Brooks' office. She was not pinned against his bookshelf. And she was not being kissed senseless but her gorgeous, gorgeous boss.

She shook her head and covered her face, taking a deep breath to calm herself down.

That had to count as the best dream she had ever had. And certainly the most vivid. She could still feel Charles' hard, muscular body pressed up against her, pushing her into the bookshelf. His lips nipping and grazing the length of her neck. His hands wandering over waist, gripping her thigh as she wrapped her leg around him. She could still feel the heat of his body as he grabbed her and pushed into her.

A small sound escaped her lips as she relived the dream and she laughed at her stupidity. She was acting like a teenager.

She blamed Charles Brooks. If he hadn't put it all out there the day before, she wouldn't be having these dirty dreams. Of course, it wasn't the first time she had dreamt about him. The last one had been of them going at it on Kelsey's table. But she was in no mood to be logical or forgiving. This dream was Charles' fault.

She took another deep breath and prepared to face the day. Prepared to face him after his outburst. She didn't know what lay in store. How should she behave? How would he behave? Would it be awkward after his confession?

It was not as though she hadn't known all this while that he was interested in her. They had shared so many intimate moments together, they had kissed a few times. But he hadn't explicitly said as much to her as he had the day before.

" _I don't know why you're dating a 40-something guy in publishing who isn't me"_

The words echoed in her head. The truth was, she wasn't sure why she was out with Jay in the first place. And the truth was that she needed to tell Charles her truth now. If it all exploded, so be it. But if it didn't, at least she would give them a fair shot at making it work. And she deserved that.

Her mind made up, her resolve strengthened, Liza splashed water on her face and marched out of her room to get some coffee.

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Liza flopped back onto her bed and stared at the ceiling.

Today had to count as one of the most bizarre days she had ever experienced in her life.

A morning that had started off with a sex dream about Charles, had ended with his wife reappearing in his life, brought back by none other than yours truly.

She rubbed her eyes tiredly. How she wished time had stopped in that moment when she was laying across his desk, his warm, hard body on top of hers, lips meeting furiously, passionately. He had kissed her with such abandon, with such passionate frenzy.

She hadn't expected him to push her on to his desk… she was still discovering all the little joys that lay beneath the ties and suits that made Charles Brooks. And frankly, she could think of nothing better than spending her life discovering these things about him. She certainly could spend her life kissing him the way she had that evening. And if the man kissed like that, she could only imagine what he was like in bed.

She shook her head, trying to stop her brain from going in that direction.

She wasn't sure what had prompted her to throw herself at him the way she had. That morning she had resolved to tell him the truth. When she walked to his office, she had gone solely with the intention of showing him the Pitch Fest script she had discovered.

And then… something changed when she saw him. The fact that the moment played out exactly as it had in her dirty dream certainly didn't help matters. But it was more than that.

In that split second, with his blue eyes gazing down at her, with her heart in her mouth and the blood pulsing through her veins, it had just felt right to launch herself at him and kiss him. Kiss him like there was going to be no tomorrow. Indulge in the fantasy, the dream, in him, everything else be damned.

She sighed. It had been perfect. Almost. If she had thought the janitor interrupting them was a problem, it was nothing compared to what came next. She still could not believe the one script she picked at Pitch Fest, was written by his wife.

 _Ex-wife,_ she reminded herself.

It was surreal. She could almost laugh at the colossal nightmare of the situation if she wasn't feeling so depressed.

Her phone buzzing on her nightstand broke her out of her thoughts and she rushed to answer it when she saw who was calling.

"Charles! Is everything okay?" she said hurriedly.

He fell in love with her a little more in that moment. After everything that had happened that day, her first thought was still concern for him.

He didn't quite know what to say to her. He was still in disbelief. Of all the ways he had expected Pauline to walk back into his life, this had never even occurred to him.

A part of him was angry. Angry that she had come back and not bothered to get in touch with him, with the girls. Angry that she had written a book about him and their marriage and had not consulted him or at the very least informed him about it before putting it out into the world. But mostly he was angry, because she had reappeared just when his life finally, finally seemed to be getting back on track.

He was trying to control himself as he discussed the book with Liza. To not let her sense just how frustrated and upset he was with the situation he found himself, and themselves, in. And he knew he had to reassure her that his feelings for her were real. That Pauline's sudden reappearance did not erase what had happened between him and Liza over the last year. That he still felt as strongly for her as he did before that script fell on his desk. She had to know.

"Liza…" he interrupted her.

She fell silent.

He took a deep breath.

"I don't regret what happened tonight, at all. Just the way it got interrupted."

He could hear her breath hitch at his words. And he hoped with all his might that she still felt for him what he did for her. But he didn't want to push her.

"Good night," he said softly.

"Good night," she replied, falling back against her bed as the phone disconnected.

She stared up at the ceiling again. She was trying to tell herself not to get too excited about what he said. Not to read too much into it. That the situation was still a nightmare, already so complicated, and made even more so with the reappearance of Pauline.

But her foolish, lovesick heart refused to listen to her. And she couldn't help the grin that spread across her face as she hugged her phone close to her heart.

Suddenly she sat up in bed and began texting.

 _[Liza] I don't regret it either, Charles._

He grinned at his phone. All the stress and worry of the last few hours disappeared. In that moment he forgot about Pauline, her book, what her sudden presence meant. All he wanted to focus on was Liza. All he wanted in his heart, in his mind was Liza.

 _[Charles] I'm glad. I know we have a lot to sort out but please know that I am very clear about my feelings for you. And I will find a way out of this new complication in our lives._

Liza smiled softly. She couldn't remember the last relationship she had where someone wanted her so unabashedly, so openly and so honestly. She could feel herself falling deeper and deeper. And for once, it felt absolutely right.


	15. Chapter 15

**A/N:** Here's the next chapter. This is based around everything that happens before and at Pound Ridge. Hoping to get the next chapter out soon as well because I cannot wait to begin writing the good stuff :)

So here goes... Hope you enjoy it. Please let me know what you think. Your reviews keep me going. Happy reading! And thank you for the reviews for the previous chapters.

 **Disclaimer:** I don't own Younger, any of its characters or their scripts, dialogues and stories.

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Chapter 15

Liza shifted awkwardly as she waited in Charles' lounge. It was strange. This was a space she had been so comfortable in for the last few months. All those times she had babysat for the girls or read a manuscript with him or shared a drink… it had almost felt like home.

But tonight she felt like a stranger in his big house. Like an intruder. An outsider stepping into his space. His and Pauline's space.

The last few days had been weird to say the least. She wasn't quite sure where she stood with Charles. He himself had been very distracted and had in fact been missing from work for a couple of days. The odd occasions that they had passed each other in the office, he had given her a reassuring smile but she wasn't sure if she was reading too much into that. The late night texts and phone calls had also been noticeably absent. To be fair, she had also not initiated conversation with him. She wasn't sure what the rules were now. And she no longer felt comfortable taking the liberties with him that she had all these months.

She had forgotten that he was still a married man. His wife had been so far from her thoughts, from their lives, that she had even forgotten she existed.

Yet now here she was. Larger than life. Looming invisibly, between her and Charles.

She turned as she heard him come down the stairs. Her breath caught in her throat as she caught sight of him in all black. She wondered if he had consciously dressed like that as a reflection of his mood. Regardless, he looked incredibly handsome as always and she felt a twinge of jealousy that she rushed to suppress. It pained her to know that he was going to go see Pauline, even though it had been her suggestion.

She had to stop herself from reaching for him. He looked so tense that all she wanted to do was hold him and comfort him. But it was not her place to do so, she told herself, keeping her hands firmly to her sides.

"I shouldn't be long," he said softly. "Thank you again for staying with the girls"

"It's no problem at all," she replied, smiling at him brightly, hoping to help him relax a little.

He wasn't really meeting her eye as he walked around, shrugging on his blazer, searching for his phone. She didn't know what to make of things. All she knew was that she hated how things were currently. She hated these awkward, uncomfortable silences between them. She hated that she was suddenly uncertain about how to behave around Charles. She hated that she didn't feel confident enough to talk to him about things.

She shook herself out of her thoughts as she caught him staring at her. It was the first time tonight that he had actually looked her in the eye and as always, it left her breathless. She smiled softly at him.

"Liza, I want you to know something. When Pauline walked out, I never thought that I would stop feeling angry," he began as she wondered where this was going. Was he ending whatever it was they had between them? Was he trying to let her down gently? She tried to keep her face neutral as he continued speaking.

"And then I met you. And it was like a cloud lifted. And even if we couldn't be together or even if you were just working in the office, I felt like me again around you. And I'm just so grateful that you are in my life."

Liza's lungs felt like they were on fire. She couldn't breathe. Had she heard him right? Her heart was starting to do a little happy dance. She wanted to walk over to him and kiss him but she knew this was not the time. So she settled for smiling widely at him, hoping it would convey to him just how much his words meant to her, how they were a balm for her aching heart. As always, Charles Brooks knew just what to say to make her feel better.

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Charles held the comforter to his chest. He buried his nose in it and inhaled deeply, oddly comforted by the familiarity of the faint traces of perfume coming from the cloth. He unfolded the blanket and slipping off his shoes, lay down on the couch and covered himself with it.

At once his breathing steadied and he felt a sense of peace wash over him as the familiar fragrance of Liza surrounded him.

He felt really guilty. He had completely shut down and had all but hustled Liza out of his house. He sighed. It had been the most emotionally taxing evening of his life. And being back talking to Pauline, reliving everything that had happened over the last year, had made fall back into old habits. He squeezed his eyes shut as Liza's hurt and confused face swam before him.

He sat up and grabbed his phone from the table. He owed her more. She deserved much better than the way he had behaved tonight.

He was aware it was late but he had to talk to her.

She was clearly still awake, answering on the second ring.

"Charles!" she exclaimed, the surprise evident in her voice.

"I'm so sorry, Liza," he said quickly.

She settled back against her pillows, a faint smile appearing on her face. How she loved this man. How she wished their lives weren't so complicated and that she could just be with him. She rubbed her eyes, trying to prevent the tears that had built up from rolling down her cheeks.

"There's nothing to be sorry about, Charles," she said softly, trying to comfort him.

"No, Liza. Let me apologise. You deserve nothing less and I am ashamed of my behaviour tonight."

Liza hurried to reassure him, he had nothing to be sorry for. She could well imagine how draining the evening must have been for him, having had many such frustrating and emotional conversations with David since their separation.

But before she could interrupt, he continued.

"I'm sorry I was rude tonight. When, uh, things get very emotional, I have a tendency to shut down."

Liza smiled to herself.

"I know, Charles," she said.

He chuckled softly.

"I suppose you would. That's one of the major themes in Pauline's book," he said, shaking his head.

"No. I mean I know you," Liza in a low voice.

His breath hitched. And he realised just how much of himself he had exposed to her over the course of just a few months. How, in such a short span of time, she had broken down almost all his walls that Pauline struggled with in all the years of their marriage.

How he wished he hadn't sent her away. He should have asked her to stay. He could think of nothing better right now than to hold her, bury his face in her neck and draw comfort from the heat of her. He drew the blanket closer around him and inhaled deeply again.

"Yes, you do, Liza," he said softly. "You really do."

There was silence as they both just took solace in the sounds of each other's breathing.

Charles sighed. "I'll have to talk to the girls about all this," he said rubbing his face tiredly.

Liza's heart went out to him. She was so grateful that Caitlin was all grown up when she and David separated. She could not even begin to imagine what it would be like to explain this whole murky situation to Nicole and Bianca.

"They're good, intelligent kids, Charles," she said. "And you are an amazing father. Those girls love you so very much. And as long as they have you, they will face anything that life throws their way and come out of it stronger."

Charles smiled. She always knew just what to say.

"Thank you, Liza," he said. "You don't know how much that means to me."

"It's late," he continued. "You should get some sleep."

" _We_ should get some sleep," she said. She couldn't help grinning into the phone, her heart much lighter than it had been all evening. "Good night, Charles."

"Good night, Liza."

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Liza turned over as her phone rang. Her heart skipped a beat when she saw Charles' name flash across the screen and she scrambled to answer.

"Liza, hi," he said, his soft voice sending the blood humming through her veins. "I hope I didn't wake you?"

"No, no," she said as she sat up. "I was awake. Is everything alright?"

"I just…" he trailed off.

Neither spoke.

"I just wanted to tell you… I meant every word of what I said this afternoon, Liza," he said. "Pauline's book is just that… a book. A work of fiction."

Liza sighed and shut her eyes.

"Charles…" she began.

"No, Liza. Listen to me. Please," he implored. "Pauline made the worst mess of my life and left me to sweep up the pieces. But she is not going to do the same to us."

Liza ran her hand through her hair. She wanted to believe him. She really did. But how could she? How could she live with herself knowing that she was getting in the way of Charles getting back together with a woman he had been married to for so many years? How could she be the one who prevented Nicole and Bianca from having a complete family again?

"Liza, what we have is real. My feelings for you are real. It's messy and it's complicated. But it's worth fighting for," he said firmly. "And I intend to fight for it."

Liza smiled. He made it sound so easy, so doable. She could not want him more than she did in that moment. The fact that he wanted to fight for her, for them, despite what it meant for his family, for his company… it meant the world to her. And she knew she owed it to him to tell him truth. She could never live with herself knowing that he was fighting for something that was based on a lie.

"Charles, I need to tell you something," she said.

"I…uh… hang on a second, Liza," he said as his call waiting beeped through. "Uh, Liza, I'm going to have to call you back. That's Pauline calling. She has the girls tonight for the first time and I need to take this to make sure they are okay. Sorry."

"No, no. I understand. I'll see you tomorrow," she said, as disappointment cut through her.

"Bye, Liza," he said, hurriedly hanging up.

She stared at her blank phone screen. She didn't think she could do this. It was so messy. So complicated. Her lie, his marriage, his two little kids, her job… there was just so much at stake. She had to tell him. She had to lay it all out on the table and then, she had to end it.

She turned off the light and lay down, staring into the darkness, willing her tears not to fall.

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The company picnic at Charles' house in Pound Ridge was finally over. She was the last one left. Diana had given her a long list of things to do and by the time Liza had laboured through them, all the guests had cleared out. Kelsey had left early, still visibly shaken by Josh's outrageous behaviour. Diana had sauntered out after she'd given Liza a series of instructions, accompanied of course by several barbs about her choice in men. Nicole and Bianca, who had luckily missed Josh punching their father, had given her warm hugs before going off for the night with Pauline.

She hadn't seen Charles since their 'moment' after the punch and she didn't intend to. She had been avoiding him all evening and she was hoping she could sneak away without bumping into him. It was all just too much and she didn't trust herself around him.

 _My feelings haven't changed. Nothing's changed_

She closed her eyes and inhaled deeply. She could still smell him on her. She could still feel his warm, soft lips on her, claiming her mouth, kissing her like there was no tomorrow. His strong arms wrapped around her, pulling her closer and deeper into the kiss. His fingers in her hair, his hand running over her skin. She shivered at the memory as a tingle ran through her body and butterflies turned somersaults in her stomach.

 _Sleeping with the boss doesn't end well. For any of us._

Kelsey's words echoed in her ears.

She shook herself out of her thoughts and got back to what she was doing. She packed away the last of the party supplies and gathered her purse, walking quickly to the front lobby. She wanted to leave before she ran into Charles again.

She sensed him before she heard him behind her as she reached the door. The hair on the back of her neck stood up as she felt his large manly warm presence envelope her.

"Liza" he said huskily. Her outstretched hand froze on the door handle.

She paused and shut her eyes, his voice washing over her, sending a shiver of pleasure down her spine. She turned around slowly and looked up at him.

Her breath caught in her throat when she realised how close he was standing. He wasn't touching her but every inch of her body was on fire. She inhaled, and his scent invaded her nostrils – musky, masculine… so Charles. She stared at the slightly darkened skin near his chin, which was starting bruise from where Josh had hit him. She clenched her fist to stop herself from reaching out and touching his face, wanting to erase the soreness she was sure he was feeling.

"Liza," he said again, this time almost a whisper, emanating low in his throat, as he took another step closer.

Her breath quickened. There were just millimetres separating them now and he still hadn't laid a finger on her.

She looked up at him and felt the heat pool low in her belly. Her knees threatened to give way as he gazed down at her, a storm raging in his eyes.

"Charles, I…" she started to speak, as his pupils darkened with desire. Her back was against the door now and she felt her gaze flicker to his lips. She wanted him. Oh, how she wanted him. But she couldn't… she _shouldn't_.

His fingers slowly drifted up her arm and before she could stop herself, a low moan escaped her.

And suddenly his mouth was on her neck, trailing kisses up to the soft spot behind her ear. His hands held her hips as he pushed her back firmly into the door and pressed his weight up against her, bodies flush together, limb to limb, heat to heat.

Gone was the restrained, well-mannered gentleman that he usually was. And in his place was this passionate, intense, almost primal man.

She found herself tilting her head to give him better access as her hands grabbed his shirt and bunched in the fabric.

He sucked gently on her neck and then more aggressively, nipping at the soft skin as she pulled him closer to her.

"Charles," she whispered, feeling his desire consume her and battling her own ache for him.

"Tell me to stop Liza," he growled into her ear as his hands trailed up her body. "Tell me to stop and I swear I will."

His words barely registered, her mind foggy with all the sensations he was sending coursing through her body as he stroked every fibre of her being awake.

She moaned loudly and that was all the answer he needed before latching on to her mouth and kissing her hungrily. His hand slipped under her dress, caressing her thigh which brought out a guttural, almost animal-like noise from her. And all he wanted to do was find more ways to get her to make that sound again.

He was pressing her up against the door, as his mouth made love to hers, tongues duelling, breaths mingling, fast and hot, insatiable, unquenchable.

Her nails raked down his back, as she grabbed at his shirt and tugged it out of his pants. He groaned against her lips when her hands slipped under the material and started roaming his bare back, nails digging into him, pain mixed with the sweetest pleasure.

He ground his hips against hers and felt her buck into him, deepening their kiss.

His hands cupped the back of her head, fingers tangled in her hair as he attacked her mouth, again and again, unable to get enough of her.

Somewhere in the deep recesses of his brain it registered that his phone was buzzing incessantly on the table nearby. But he was too consumed by the woman in his arms who was writhing in pleasure against him as he tried to touch every inch of her.

It was Liza who placed a halting hand on his chest, making him pull away, looking at her searchingly. The buzzing of the phone grew louder as his mind cleared.

They both looked down at the phone at the same time, to see the name 'Pauline' flash across the screen.

Liza sighed and squeezed her eyes shut. A solitary tear rolled down her cheek, and it cut Charles like a knife.

She placed her forehead against his shoulder as the phone continued to ring.

"I can't do this, Charles. _We_ can't do this. Pauline… your girls… We can't," she whispered, her voice catching in her throat as she spun around, yanked the door open and rushed out.

And just like that, for the second time that day, she was gone, leaving him staring at the closed door, all alone in his big empty house, his phone still vibrating on the table top.


	16. Chapter 16

**A/N:** So one more chapter after this one with all the angst before we get to the good stuff ;) I've had just about enough of writing angsty Liza and Charles! This chapter is set around the events towards the end of Season 4. Hoping to get the story finished before the new season premieres.

Hope you enjoy this chapter. Please let me know what you think. Your reviews keep me going. Happy reading! And thank you for the reviews for the previous chapters.

 **Disclaimer:** I don't own Younger, any of its characters or their scripts, dialogues and stories.

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Chapter 16

Liza pried off her heels and sank down into the comfortable couch. With her head thrown over the back of the sofa, she rubbed her eyes with one hand while massaging her aching foot with the other. It had been a long night… and none of it had been good.

The silence of the Brooklyn loft she shared with Maggie descended upon her like a heavy cloak. Never before had she appreciated just how quiet it got late at night. She wasn't much of a drinker but tonight she could use a shot or two.

And, as if she had made that wish to her fairy godmother, she suddenly smelt a shot glass full of tequila being waved in front of her nose. She opened her eyes and found Maggie staring down at her.

"How did you…" she started as she reached for the glass.

"Honey, when have I not known that you needed a tequila night?" chuckled Maggie as she collapsed down next to her.

Liza smiled weakly and downed the tequila, holding her glass out for more.

Maggie shook her head and poured out another shot. She didn't want to pry. She knew Liza didn't take well to too many questions. She also knew that given time, Liza would confide in her.

And sure enough, it didn't take more than a couple of glasses of tequila to pour her heart out to Maggie.

"What should I do?" she asked in a small voice.

She didn't wait for Maggie to respond before speaking again.

"I can't get in the way of his family getting back together, of Nicole and Bianca getting their parents back. I can't. I know what it cost David, Caitlin and me to split our family up and if there is the slightest chance of Charles and Pauline getting back together, I know I have to step aside and let it happen. But…" her voice trailed off as she squeezed her eyes shut and a tear rolled down her cheek.

"But?" asked Maggie softly.

"I love him," she said simply, opening her eyes and looking at her friend.

They sat in silence for a few seconds before Maggie filled Liza's glass again.

"I love him, Maggie," she repeated as she downed the drink in one gulp. "I have for a long time now, even when I was with Josh. It was always him."

She leaned back against the couch with a sigh and rubbed her face tiredly.

Maggie looked at her, sympathy filling her eyes as she reached out and squeezed Liza's hand.

"What do I do now?" asked Liza again.

"Now?" replied Maggie as she poured the clear liquid into the glass and held it out to her. "Now, we drink."

Liza grinned weakly and grabbed the glass from her.

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Charles debated texting her. He was well on his way to getting drunk as he sat in his study, whiskey bottle at hand, glass full of the amber liquid on his table, door closed. He needed to be alone and the last thing he needed tonight was for Pauline to come into the room and insist on talking to him. She was the last person he wanted to see right now.

The whole evening had been miserable. He had barely been able to eat after he had seen Liza leave with Jay. He was trying hard to convince himself that there was nothing going on with them. Jay was a nice guy and he knew that he was a friend of Liza's. But the stab of jealousy that had pierced his heart when he saw Jay's hand on her back, leading her out of the party, had made him feel numb.

He hated how their conversation had gone earlier in the evening. He knew what she was doing. He knew that she thought that there was still a chance that he and Pauline would reconcile. He knew that she thought she was doing the right thing by stepping aside and letting this grand reconciliation happen. And he knew that everything she had said that evening, about how the book was a big career move for her and that's all that mattered to her, was a lie. A lie said to make him distance himself from her.

He shook his head and took another sip of his drink, welcoming the burn of the alcohol as it ran through his veins.

How could she not know by now that she was the one for him? The only one. Pauline and he were done. Maybe it had been a mistake to publish Pauline's book, to allow her back into his life. But he had no choice.

He could hear Pauline's footsteps in the room above. He knew he had to get her to leave the brownstone. He would just have to figure out how to talk to the girls about it. But there was no question, Pauline had to go.

He downed the rest of his glass and grabbed his phone.

 _[Charles] I'm sorry, Liza._

Liza heard her phone buzz somewhere nearby. Her brain was fuzzy from all the tequila she and Maggie had drunk. She had been lying on her bed, waiting for the ceiling to stop spinning when she heard her phone go off. She felt around for it, squinting at the screen to see who the message was from.

She shot up when she saw Charles' name and then groaned at the sharp pain that shot through her head at the sudden movement.

She hesitated, though only for a moment, before replying.

 _[Liza] Sorry for what?_

 _[Charles] For our conversation this evening. I know you didn't mean what you said, and I shouldn't have reacted the way I did._

Liza shook her head. She didn't know how to respond to him. She was trying to create distance between them, to help push him back towards Pauline. But her treacherous heart kept drawing her back to him, unwilling to let go. She had to keep up the charade though. Had to make him walk away from her. Had to force herself to walk away from him.

 _[Liza] There is nothing to apologise for, Charles. It's late. I'll see you at the office. Good night._

Charles stared at his phone. Tears pricked the back of his eyes. How had his life come to this point? Just when it had seemed that things were finally looking up again. Just as he had started feeling like himself again. How had it all come crashing down so quickly?

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Liza sobbed quietly in the back of the taxi. The cab driver had looked at her worriedly in his rearview mirror a few times. She tried to stifle her tears, hold on till she made it back to the loft.

It was a good thing that Maggie was out that night. Liza didn't think she could face anyone after the evening she'd had. All she wanted to do was go to sleep and forget about everything. But every time she closed her eyes images of Pauline clutching on to Charles' hand, leaving with him in their limo, heading to the brownstone together swam before her eyes.

It had been so easy between them. She had thought that Charles looked a little uncomfortable every time Pauline touched him but that was probably just her optimistic imagination. She wanted to be happy for them. Their family was becoming whole again. But try as she might, she just couldn't muster up any joy at the thought.

She marvelled at the irony of the situation… she had admitted that she loves Charles to Maggie, to Jay without any qualms. Yet, she could not bring herself to admit the fact to the man himself.

She shook her head at her foolishness as she buried her face in her pillow and tried to fall asleep.

The time on her alarm clock read 5:06 am. Suddenly her phone began to buzz.

She shot up and grabbed her phone.

"Caitlin?" she asked hurriedly.

"No, it's Josh. Hi."

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 _[Liza] Going to Ireland. Josh is getting married. I think we need to talk when I get back._

Charles stared at the text he had received from Liza a couple of days ago. He didn't know what to think. The last few days had been a whirlwind. Liza had suddenly disappeared to Ireland after rushing out of the Pubbies. Pauline had been acting a little too comfortable with him that night and he thought that perhaps Liza had felt a little jealous. It gladdened his heart a little to know that she still had feelings for him and he had tried his best not to respond to Pauline's advances, while trying to be polite to his ex-wife. It had hurt him to see the pain in Liza's eyes as Pauline and he got into the same car at the end of the night. And all he had wanted to do was pull her close and hold her. But the time and the place did not allow for it and all he could do was watch as once again she left with Jay.

He had wanted to call her that night but the girls had had a restless night… they weren't taking well to the uncertainty of his and Pauline's situation and he had spent the next day dealing with that.

And the next thing he knew, Liza was in Ireland, he had to deal with the PR disaster that was the Good Morning America interview. He was terrified that she had seen it. He was seething at the way he had been tricked into appearing on the show and the last thing he needed was for Liza to get any more wrong ideas about him and Pauline. He felt so helpless. She was so far away.

He had to speak to her. He had to reassure her that Pauline meant nothing to him any more. She was merely the mother of his children. But his heart was reserved entirely for Liza.

He grabbed his phone and dialled her number. It rang and rang. And then went to voicemail. He debated leaving her a message but everything he wanted to say to her wouldn't fit in a voicemail. So he hung up, tapping his phone against his thigh impatiently.

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Liza flopped onto her bed, having changed out of her wedding clothes into a comfortable pair of sweats. Josh was finally married and truth be told, she felt relieved. She hoped he would move on with his life and she… well, she didn't know what she would move on to. But at least she was building a great career for herself. She had that.

She looked at her phone for the first time in hours… it had been a no phone wedding and afterwards she had had no time to look at it because Maggie had pulled her onto the dance floor and not let her sit down for even a minute.

She sat up quickly as she saw a missed call from Charles.

Should she call him? What was the point? She had seen Charles and Pauline on GMA. They had been talking about their reconciliation. What space did she have in his life beyond a colleague now?

She sighed and then dialled him. Try as she might, she could not stay away.

He answered on the first ring.

"Liza!" he said, almost breathlessly. "You called back."

He sounded surprised.

"Of course, Charles," she said, his voice warming her entire body. "I'm sorry I missed your call. There were no phones allowed at the wedding and then Maggie insisted I party the afternoon away."

Charles grinned as the image of Liza doing a little Irish jig popped into his head.

"Uh… that's okay. How was the wedding?" he asked, before adding, "I'm happy Josh has found someone."

Liza sighed.

"What are we doing Charles?" she asked softly.

Charles was taken aback.

"What do you mean?"

"This. Polite conversation. We're saying everything but what we should be saying," she said running her hand over her face.

Charles didn't know what to say. He hadn't expected her to be so brutally frank.

"I saw you and Pauline on GMA," she continued softly, hating that her voice broke a little. "I'm so happy the two of you are back together. It is how it should be. Nicole and Bianca must be thrilled. And I'm sure you must…"

"Liza, Liza, stop!" he interrupted.

She fell silent.

"Pauline and I are _not_ back together," he said firmly. "Believe me. Please. You have to believe me."

His pleading voice broke her heart. But she was scared to trust him. Scared to put her heart out there again… open, exposed and vulnerable to the beating she was sure it would receive.

"Liza," he said softly. "Pauline and I are over. It's all still a mess and I am still trying to sort it out with the girls and initiating divorce proceedings and Pauline's book and what it means for the business. But I assure you, we are not getting back together."

"Charles, I…" she began.

"Look Liza, I'm sorry. I have to go, the kids are home and are demanding lunch," he interrupted as she heard his girls shouting in the distance behind him. "But as soon as you are back home, we need to talk. I owe you that. Please, Liza."

She sighed.

"Okay. I'll see you when I get home."

"Great," he couldn't help but grin at the thought of seeing her again soon. "Bye, Liza."

"Bye, Charles."


	17. Chapter 17

**A/N:** Trying to race through the remaining chapters, hoping to finish it before the new season premiers. But I don't think that will happen as I intend to extend their bubble for a LONG time ;)

Anyway, last chapter of all out angst. Now onwards we get into the good stuff. So enjoy this last bit of heartache and please, please do let me know what you think. And thank you for the reviews for the previous chapters.

 **Disclaimer:** I don't own Younger, any of its characters or their scripts, dialogues and stories.

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Chapter 17

The wind whistled past his ears, the biting cold making the tips turn a bright red. His lungs were on fire and every icy breath he took felt like a dagger piercing his ribs. His heart felt like like it would hammer right out of his chest, it's irregular beat like a tap dancer out of tune.

But Charles Brooks was oblivious to it all as he ran through the dark park, dawn not quite having broken through the black sky yet. He didn't know how long he had been running. Certainly, his legs could feel the strain. Though the ache in his legs was nothing compared to the ache in his heart. The stinging of the cold wind on his face was nothing compared to the tears stinging his eyes as he made his way through the early morning darkness.

He had lost count of the minutes, perhaps even the hour he had been out in the cold. All he knew was that he needed the physical pain to dull the emotional agony he was feeling.

Edward L.L. Moore's words still echoed in his ears, no matter how hard he tried to block that sleazy old man's voice out.

 _She's a divorced 40-something housewife from New Jersey. She's a con artist_

How could she have lied like that? To him? About everything? Was anything about her genuine? Was all she had ever said to him also a lie?

He stopped and clutched onto the icy railing by the side of the path. The air had been knocked out of him and he doubled over as a sharp pain sliced through his side. He was struggling to breathe.

He made his way over to a nearby bench. He didn't know what to do. He had always felt a strange connection to her. The age gap had never mattered because he always felt she was more in tune with his thoughts and his like and dislikes than most people. What had he said to Bob? She was an old soul.

He smiled darkly. Little did he know. Every bit of that connection, those feelings, that attraction… it was all built on a falsehood. Heck, he had been in love with her!

He shook his head. How had he been so foolish? He thought he had become a better people reader after Pauline's departure had left him blindsided. Yet here he was, back to being the fool, left feeling cheated and alone by yet another woman.

He slammed his hand into the wrought iron bench, wincing as a painful stab shot through his hand. But really he didn't care. He just didn't care.

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Liza sobbed quietly into her pillow. She didn't want to wake Maggie. She didn't want to talk to anyone right now. The silence of the night closed in around her like a coffin. She gasped for air as her body was racked by another bout of tears.

His words echoed in her mind, over and over again.

 _You betrayed me. You looked me in the eyes for months and months, and you pretended to be somebody else entirely. You are not the kind of person that I want to have in my life._

She buried her face in her pillow. Her heart was torn into pieces, her life was in ruins. She hated herself. Just hated herself. How could she have done this to him? How could she have let things get so far without telling him the truth?

When she looked back now, she couldn't believe that she hadn't come clean to him much earlier. It had taken a night of getting high to tell Josh the truth and not even that to tell Kelsey. Yet, she had failed when it came to the most important person… the man she was in love with.

His hurt and broken face swam before her eyes. The way he had stood in front of her on the misty street, his words harsh, his eyes sad. She had never felt smaller than in that moment.

And she didn't know where to go from here. How could she assure him that her feelings for him were real even if she had hidden her truth from him. In her entire life of the last couple of years built on a lie, the one truthful, genuine thing was her feelings for him.

She had to tell him. She _had_ to find a way to make him listen.

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 _Liza's lying. I can tell._

The double meaning of his words weren't lost on her. He had been giving her the silent treatment since that night when he had confronted her about her lie. Tonight was the first night he had spoke with her directly. And his words dripped with anger and betrayal.

She couldn't blame him. She tried to put on a brave face. Tried to pretend that it was all part of the game. But Charles and she knew how high the stakes were.

She had managed to stay away from him for the rest of Diana's party. He hadn't made much of an effort to come and talk to her either. In fact, she had a sneaky suspicion that he was actively avoiding her.

She had helped Diana clear up and was now standing outside the elevator. She was exhausted and wanted to get home and crash. The party had been fun but emotionally exhausting.

As the elevator dinged she felt a large, warm presence behind her. She knew, she immediately knew he was near her. She was surprised. She thought everyone had left. Clearly, he had done a good job of staying invisible.

She sighed and squared her shoulders as she turned to face him.

He was staring at her with a look of great concentration… almost as if by looking at her he could figure out why she had lied to him.

The elevator doors opened. She stepped in and looked at him expectantly.

"Coming?" she heard the faint hint of a challenge in her own voice.

He hesitated. Then, as if winning a mental argument with himself, he stepped onto the elevator behind her.

They rode down in silence. The air in the cramped elevator heavy with tension.

He contemplated saying something to her. But each time he stopped himself. He was still so hurt and so angry, he knew he'd say something hurtful. And despite everything she had done, he couldn't bring himself to hurt her.

He could feel the heat emanating from her body as she stood close to him, arms almost touching. The soft elevator light reflected off the smooth skin of her bare arms. Her hair gleamed, the soft waves catching the light every time she moved. He wanted nothing more than to run his hands over her skin, to caress her cheek, to hold her close to him, bury his face in her hair, smell the floral fragrance of her shampoo. He clenched his fist to stop himself from reaching out for her.

Liza wondered if she should say something, anything. Try to explain, try to make him understand. But as she stole sidelong glances at him, she encountered a wall of ice. So she kept quiet.

They stepped out into the dim, deserted lobby of Diana's building.

"Good night, Charles," she said, finally plucking up the courage to say something.

He turned towards her and realised how close she was standing. He opened his mouth to say something but no words came out. Their eyes locked. The air crackled with electricity. And before he could stop himself, he was crossing over to her, grabbing her arms, pushing her back against the wall and kissing her.

It was an angry kiss. His lips more brutal than gentle. His teeth grazing her mouth as he used his body weight to press her up against the wall, his fingers digging into her arms. His other hand curled into her hair, gripping her tightly.

She kissed him back with equal fervour. Her teeth nipping at his lips, delighted at the little gasp that escaped him. She clutched his arms for support as she reciprocated his passion, his anger. She could feel his fingernails digging into her skin but there was pleasure in that pain. It was cathartic. She needed this, as angry as it was. She needed him. The silence had been killing her. And she revelled in his body heat against hers, his mouth on her mouth, his hands trailing over her body.

A soft moan escaped her and suddenly she felt a blast of cold air sweep over her. Her eyes flew open as she caught a glimpse of his retreating back as he stormed out of the building. She raised her finger to touch her lips which were aching, raw and swollen. His fingers had left light marks on her arms.

But none of it mattered. The weeks of silence had made her wonder whether he felt anything for her at all. Whether her lie had killed whatever it was that existed between them.

But now… now she knew. She smiled softly as she pushed herself off the wall and headed out into the cold night.

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Charles gulped down the glass of neat scotch, feeling the burn down his throat, spreading into his chest. He licked his lips and tasted the metallic taste of blood from where she had nipped at him. He could still smell her perfume on his clothes. Her nails had left marks on the back of his hands.

He shook his head and poured himself another drink. How could he have lost control like that? He to avoid her at all costs. Especially in social situations. He couldn't let this happen again.

He sighed and grabbed his phone.

 _[Charles] I apologise, Liza. For the way I behaved tonight. I'm going to chalk it down to too much alcohol. Just to reiterate what I said to you, we maintain a professional, reporting relationship. Tonight was an aberration. It won't happen again_

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Liza's head felt fuzzy. The lights in the room seemed brighter than they should be. There was music playing but it seemed to be coming from a distance and she was finding it hard to focus.

The only thing keeping her from keeling over was the warm masculine presence on the sofa next to her. She could feel Charles' arm against hers, the heat from his body, the smell of his cologne. They were sitting close together on the sofa. But he hadn't moved away from her and she was happy to have him as close to her as possible.

She could tell he was a little tipsy too, even though he was trying hard to hold it together as Chrissie Hart swayed drunkenly in front of them, trying to find any excuse to touch him. Liza felt a stab of irritation every time Chrissie ran her hand down Charles' arm or squeezed his bicep. But she bit her lip and kept quiet.

"Don't leave me alone with her," he whispered. She could smell the alcohol on his breath and a thrill ran through her at the sound of his husky voice close to her ear.

She knew he had been frustrated all day. Chrissie had been stalling about her book by spending her entire time plying them with alcohol and flirting with Charles. So when she drunkenly slurred the words, "Booky, booky time," Liza could see Charles look visibly relieved.

Honestly, right now she could care less about the book. She was with Charles, at this grand, though ugly, mansion on Shelter Island. After weeks of not speaking with her, not even making eye contact, here he was… sitting next to her, drunk, inhibitions lowered. She wished Chrissie would disappear. She wanted Charles all to herself. She wanted to talk to him, to make him understand, to explaining everything to him.

She turned to look at him but saw that he was squinting at Chrissie, trying to concentrate on what she was saying through his drunken haze.

"I gotta be good and ready before you take my baby away from me. And right now, I'm just feeling kind of ready," Chrissie was saying as Charles frowned.

The singer turned away from them, swaying to her own song that was blaring from the surround sound system in the room.

Liza leaned conspiratorially towards Charles and whispered, "Okay, I'm going to create a diversion and then you grab the book and then we'll run."

"Are you crazy? We're too drunk to read it let alone drive!" he whispered back, shaking his head.

Liza nodded at the sound logic, trying to clear her head of the alcohol haze that had taken over. And then suddenly an idea hit her. It was the best idea she had ever had, she was sure.

She grinned widely at Charles and whispered in his ear, "Wait, wait, wait. I saw on an episode of Murder She Wrote that if you eat a stick of butter before you start drinking, then you don't get drunk."

Charles felt her hot breath against his ear and felt the blood rush south. He just had to turn his head and he would be kissing her… kissing those warm, soft lips that he was dying to taste.

He felt a wave of laughter bubbling up in his chest.

Guffawing, he said, "How old are you?"

They both burst into laughter, the heavy feeling lifting from their hearts as they allowed the copious amounts of alcohol they had consumed to lower their inhibitions.

His heart skipped a beat. This is what he wanted. This is what he had imagined in his life. Laughing with Liza, just being himself with her. He hadn't felt like this since the early days of his marriage to Pauline. Liza brought this side out, this side that he had long thought dead.

He turned to look at her. He was tempted to lean in and kiss her… lies, truth, consequences be damned.

But before he could act on it, he heard a loud crash.

They both turned to find Chrissie passed out on the floor.

They glanced at each other before Charles picked up the bell lying on the table and rang it.

As Chrissie's staff gathered her up and carried her off, Liza turned to look at Charles, only to find that he had already started walking away.

She got up and followed him quickly, wanting the opportunity to be alone with him, to talk to him.

She followed him up the stairs, both completely silent. The mellow effect of the alcohol wearing off. The air seemed heavy once again.

"It was, uh, nice to see you laugh," she said softly, breaking the deafening silence, hoping he would respond.

There was a pause as he turned to look at her.

"Ah," he said, wanting to talk to her but well aware of his personal resolve to keep a professional distance.

"Well, hopefully there will be fewer antics tomorrow and we'll get the book. Good night," he said quickly, desperate to get back to him room. Anything to avoid looking at her beautiful, vulnerable face, to avoid her soft voice, to avoid the gorgeous fragrance wafting from her body.

He turned to go.

"When are you going to trust me again?"

He stopped dead in his tracks. He hadn't expected that. He turned slowly. His heart contracted at the anguish on her face. He wanted to reach out and pull her to him. Hold her close and make the pain go away. The pain caused by him. He needed to get away.

"I don't want to do this right now, Liza," he said, determined to shut this conversation down.

Liza hesitated, but only for a moment. She had nothing to lose. The alcohol running through her veins giving her confidence like she had never had before. She was sick of staying quiet. Tired of letting Charles get away with behaving the way he had. Tired of the silent treatment, the awkward glances, the uncomfortable encounters. This was the time to speak up.

"Just talk to me, please Charles. Just yell if that will help. The silence… I just don't know how much more I can take. If you're trying to punish me, it's working," she said. A last ditch attempt at pleading with him to listen to her, to hear her story, to understand why she was forced to lie.

She had to try one last time. She owed it to him, to herself, to _them_.

Her heart sank as she met the stony look in his eyes. He had erected a wall around himself. She could see it plainly. And she knew she couldn't breach it. The hope went out of her and he saw her visibly slump. He knew he was being unfair. He should listen to her. Hear her side of the story. But the wound that her lie had left was still too raw, too painful. He was not ready.

He turned away from her hurt and bewildered face. He couldn't do this.

"Good night, Liza," he said, walking towards his room.

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He felt broken. Heart ripped to shreds. Soul, cut and bruised. He willed sleep to come. But his mind was a raging storm of emotion. He felt like he was stumbling through a dense fog in the darkest night. He couldn't find the light. He didn't know what to do, where to go.

Charles turned over in his bed, listening to the deafening silence of Shelter Island around him. His heart ached. He wanted her. God, he wanted her. He couldn't imagine anything better than having her here, in bed with him, held close to his chest, her warmth mixed with his, running his fingers through her hair. Being able to touch her, that soft skin that he couldn't get enough of. Being able to smell her, burying his face in her wavy, thick hair, inhaling her inherent fragrance so deeply that he could smell her even when she wasn't near him. Being able to kiss her, devour those warm, inviting, soft lips that parted involuntarily whenever he leaned in close.

She was only a few feet away. All he needed to do was go and knock on her door. Knock on her door and then pull her close and never let her go. But his feet refused to move. His brain refused to give in to his heart… the hurt and betrayal of her lie still a raw, deep scar that refused to heal.

He squeezed his eyes shut… fighting back the pricks of tears that threatened to spill over. Her pained and broken face swam before his eyes, begging him to trust her again, pleading with him to talk to her, and then falling in disappointment as she retreated to lick her wounds. Wounds that he caused. His hands gripped the sheets in anger at the thought of having hurt her. And he _had_ hurt her… again and again and again, over the last several weeks.

He knew he wouldn't be able to sleep tonight. Not with his mind so anguished, not with her sleeping just down the hall.

He sighed and got out of bed, dragging his overnight bag off the sofa. He threw in the couple of sets of clothes that he had brought with him and grabbed his car keys and wallet off the bedside table.

He walked silently down the corridor, pausing for the briefest moment outside Liza's door. He ran his hand over the wood, leaning his forehead against the door. He wanted nothing more than to knock and go in and hold her.

He shook his head. He had to leave.

He shut the front door silently, walking to his car in the darkness. He knew he was being a coward. But he didn't trust himself around her. He turned to look at the house, still half tempted to go back inside. Mentally chastising himself, he quickly got into the car and without another glance back, he drove off into the night.


	18. Chapter 18

**A/N:** I thought that people wouldn't be interested any more in this fic since the new season has begun. But I have been told by multiple parties that this is not the case. So here goes the next chapter... based around A Christmas Miracle. I do hope you enjoy it.

Thank you once again for your comments and reviews of the previous chapters.

 **Disclaimer:** I don't own Younger, any of its characters or their scripts, dialogues and stories.

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Chapter 18

Charles tried to hide his amusement as best as he could, but he couldn't help the half smile that spread across his face as he watched Liza cavort around with her daughter. An apron tied around her waist, hair braided, yodelling 'The Lonely Goatherd'.

A tiny part of his brain kept nagging at him to still be angry with her. She had lied to him. Lied to him despite everything they had shared, despite the fact that he had opened up to her like he had never done with anyone else. She had made a fool of him, of them, of everything he thought they had shared.

But he was tired. Tired of fighting the feelings that were clearly there. Tired of battling the connection that was strong and resolute. Tired of forcing himself to be angry with her when all he really wanted to do was pull her close and kiss her, again and again and again.

He saw her expression turn to one of dismay when she spotted him and he had to stop himself from chuckling out loud as she ran out of the room.

He turned towards Bob and smiled as his friend held out a glass of single malt.

"Thanks," he said, taking the glass and sipping it gratefully. He hadn't expected Liza to be here tonight and it was going to take all the liquid courage he could manage to get through the evening.

"So?" said Julia, grinning broadly at him.

"So?" he asked, confusion spreading across his features.

"Do you want to meet her?" asked Julia, rolling her eyes at how dense he was being.

"Meet who?"

He knew the answer, but he was trying to avoid this conversation.

"Liza!" exclaimed Julia, gesturing at the now empty space where Liza had been performing a moment ago. "Would you like to meet Liza? She's lovely. She loves books. I think you two would really hit it off!"

Charles didn't know how to react to Julia's enthusiasm. So he simply smiled weakly and took another sip of his drink.

"Calm down honey," said Bob as he refilled his Julia's wine glass. And turning to Charles he rolled his eyes so that his wife couldn't see.

Clapping him on the shoulder, Bob said, "Excuse Julia's excitement… but I really do think you two would get along. It's been a while now since you've been involved in anything serious. What do you think?"

"C'mon Charles," Julia said, grinning slyly. "Stop resisting. I can see that you're interested."

Before Charles could answer, Bob had pulled someone forward and was saying, "Excuse me, Fraulein! There is someone who'd like to meet you."

Charles turned and his breath caught in throat seeing Liza standing so close. It was all he could do to not reach out and pull her to his side.

"Charles Brooks, this is Liza Miller," Julia's voice was a distant sound as he looked into those warm brown eyes that sparkled with uncertainty.

They exchanged an amused look as Julia made introductions and told Liza what Charles did for a living. Liza's heart lifted and sang. She searched his face for the bitterness, for the anger that had clouded his features whenever he had looked at her in the last few weeks. But tonight, there was none of that. Tonight he looked at her curiously, almost like he was seeing her for the very first time.

Liza was forced to look away from him when Caitlin suddenly came barreling through the group and before she knew it, she was being taken off to meet her daughter's friend.

Charles looked after her, a mix of longing and intrigue etched on his face. The woman was a mystery.

And when Julia asked, "She's adorable right? We can set you up if you're interested." All Charles could say was, "She is definitely interesting."

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Liza smiled affectionately as she watched her daughter laugh loudly with Rose across the room. It was so rare that she got to go out with Caitlin and hang out in a social setting that she was just grateful to be in the same room as her! And luckily David had finally left and Liza could breathe easy, knowing that he wasn't around to do anything embarrassing.

As she took a sip of the deliciously fruity red wine, the Katzes really knew their wines, she felt the air grow warm around her and a tingle of pleasure ran down her spine. She knew before she turned around that Charles had silently walked up behind her. A part of her was terrified, terrified that he would once again be cold and distant and make comments that made her want to disappear. But there was that ever-hopeful part of her that wanted to have him around, to talk to him, to try and get things back to the way they used to be.

"She looks just like you," he said softly as she turned to look at him.

Liza smiled as she looked at her daughter.

"She certainly takes after her father," she said, shaking her head as Charles chuckled softly.

"From your tone, I take it that's not a good thing?" he asked.

Liza laughed softly. "Let's just say, Caitlin is not where she is because of her dad."

Charles looked at her, a mix of curiosity, admiration and affection shining in his eyes. He was in awe… in awe of the woman standing in front of him, with lips slightly stained with red wine, hair that flowed like burnished gold over her shoulders. She was an enigma to him.

His anger towards her suddenly felt unwarranted. His sense of betrayal felt out of context. He was starting to realize just how foolish he had been listening to the toxic tales of an old, lecherous man instead of bothering to find out her life story, her reasons, her motives behind the lie.

He felt like an idiot.

"Liza, I…" he started to say when Caitlin came lurching towards them.

"Moooom!" she said, slurring her words as she tripped and fell into Liza's arms.

Charles grabbed Liza's glass from her hands before the wine spilt everywhere.

Liza shot him a grateful look as she wrapped her arms around her completely drunk daughter.

"Okaaay," she said, propping Caitlin up against her. "I think this party is over."

"But mom," muttered Caitlin as her head lolled onto her mother's shoulder.

"No but mom. Time for us to get home," said Liza firmly, looking around for the hosts to thank them.

"Don't worry," said Charles, his soft, warm voice warming her to the very bone. "I'll tell them you left."

"Uh… Thank you, Charles," she said, smiling softly at him.

"Good night, Liza," said Charles, staring deep into her eyes, wanting to say more but unable to say anything else. "Nice to meet you Caitlin."

He chuckled as Caitlin waved at him weakly. Liza gave him one last grin before leading her daughter out.

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Charles stared at the cup of coffee on the desk in front of him. It had long gone cold. His conversation with Liza at the coffee station kept playing over and over in a loop in his head. It had been a totally innocuous conversation. Two adults talking about their experiences with their kids.

And yet, he couldn't explain why his heart was soaring. Why he felt like he was walking on clouds. Why the enigma and mystery of Liza Miller suddenly seemed like the most obvious answer to him. No longer was he confused about why he had felt that weird connection with her all this time. No longer was it perplexing why she seemed wise beyond her years, why she knew just how to talk to his kids, why she seemed like the perfect fit in his 40-something world of kids, responsibilities and Generation-X living.

But he wasn't sure how to approach her. He had been so nasty, so cold for the last few weeks, that he was feeling too ashamed to face her again, to ashamed to ask her to tell him everything about herself, to tell her that he just didn't care anymore. Didn't care about her lie. Didn't care about everything that she had made up. Didn't care that she had hidden such a massive part of her life from him.

And so, like a coward, he had given her bonus cheque to Diana and left quietly and quickly to go off on his skiing trip.

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He pressed the buzzer once, twice, three times. Nothing had felt more right than this moment… than this decision to come to Liza. He needed her to know. He needed to tell her everything that was in heart. He was feeling a little deflated right now… his grand gesture was going to get ruined because she was clearly not at home.

He pressed the buzzer one more time, as he suddenly heard a loud 'thud' behind him. Spinning around he saw her… snow falling like glittering cotton around her, her nose adorably red, a shocked expression spreading across her face.

And in that moment he knew… he knew she was it. He had never been more sure about anything in his life. He wanted to kiss her, he wanted to hold her, he wanted to tell her that she was the one for him, that he wanted her, that he needed her.

"What are you…," she started.

But all he could manage was, "I don't care anymore," before leaning in to kiss her.

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They broke apart when the need for air became overwhelming. But he wasn't ready to let her go just yet, keeping his arms wrapped around her waist as he leaned back to look at her. Her face was flushed; she was blushing an adorable shade of pink. They smiled softly at each other before she leaned in to kiss him again… softly this time, the languid kiss of lovers.

He caressed her cheek when they pulled apart again, placing his forehead against hers, his fingers curling in her hair. Liza could not imagine feeling happier than she did in that moment. This was it. Everything she had wanted for as long as she could remember.

" _I don't care anymore."_

The words echoed in her ears, again and again. The feel of his strong arms around her, the intoxicating smell of him that she knew would linger on her clothes long after the evening was over, the knowledge that he had strong feelings for her and had finally, openly admitted them. The fact they were finally, finally on the same page… no lies, no secrets, nothing standing between them.

She sighed happily. Feeling him pull away, she grabbed his arms and pulled him back, not willing to let him wander away from her. She finally had him and she intended to keep him.

He chuckled softly and wrapped his arms around her again.

"Sorry," she said, grinning up at him. "It's just… I've been wanting to do that for a long time. And now I don't feel like letting you go."

Charles smiled and tucked a strand of her hair that had come loosed from her pale blue cap, behind her ears.

"I feel the same way," he said softly. "This is the first time in a long, long time that I feel at peace. I feel… happy."

Liza looked up at him and saw nothing but honesty shining in his eyes. And she knew that this was it for her. He made her feel things that neither David nor Josh ever made her feel. He made her feel safe, secure, loved, cherished in a way that she had never felt before in her life.

She smiled at him, her heart feeling like it would just burst out of her chest with happiness, and kissed him again, moaning softly as he deepened the kiss, using his hold on her hair to bring her in closer.

"Liza," he whispered against her mouth. "As much as I would love to spend the rest of the night kissing you… I think we need to start this right."

She looked at him quizzically.

"This thing," Charles gestured at the two of them. "This thing between us is real. I want it to begin with nothing left unsaid between us."

"Charles, I…" Liza began as Charles softly stroked her cheek.

"I want to know everything, Liza," he said, looking her straight in the eye. "I want to know everything that has happened until this moment in your life. Your past, all your truths, everything that has led to you to where you are now… to me."

Liza felt a twinge of worry pass through her. But one look at his face she realized how earnest his request was. This wasn't a man looking for an excuse to bail; this wasn't a petty person who was looking for ways to throw her lie in her face. This was a man who had immense integrity, who wanted to begin his life with her in the right way, the honest way.

And in that moment, she loved him even more than before.

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They sat in a dimly lit diner, steaming cups of coffee on the table between them. The place was mostly empty, just some stragglers wandering in to get a hot cup to beat off the cold.

There was silence between them… not uncomfortable or awkward. Just… silence.

She didn't know where to begin her story. She felt ashamed of everything she had done, the way she had lied to him, again and again. Truth be told, a little part of her was afraid that he would get angry again. And she knew she would never be able to bear it if he walked away from her this time.

As if sensing her inner turmoil, he grabbed her hand and squeezed it reassuringly. "Liza, I'm not going anywhere," he said, his eyes imploring her to believe him. "I'm… I'm really ashamed of how I behaved in the last few weeks. I had no right to treat you like that."

He looked down at the steam curling out of his coffee cup. He couldn't meet her eyes. He had been a monster to her ever since he found out the truth about her age and he hardly recognized the spiteful man that he had become in that time.

Liza's heart went out to him. He looked so genuinely crestfallen that all she could do was lift their joined hands to her lips and kiss his knuckles softly. His head shot up and he saw her smiling gently at him.

"I think maybe I deserved it," she said in a small voice.

Seeing that he was going to protest, she quickly said, "No, Charles. I did. I should have been honest with you. Especially, once we…"

Her voice trailed off. Charles nodded. He knew exactly what she was saying.

Liza took a deep breath and a big sip of her coffee… the warm liquid spreading through her limbs, providing her the internal comfort she needed as she launched into her story.

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By the time they left the diner, it was well past midnight. The snow had stopped and the streets were a pristine, silent white. The night was quiet, their footsteps made loud crunching sounds as they walked through the streets, clutching each other.

Liza felt lighter than she had in months. She was almost skipping... well, as best as she could on the slippery dark streets, holding on to Charles' arm for support. He held her close, his hand holding hers, not wanting to let her go.

They walked to Maggie's loft in silence, just enjoying being with each other with every secret told, every veil lifted.

When they reached the loft, Charles turned towards Liza and pulled her into him, the heat of his body warming her right down to her soul. She snuggled into his embrace, breathing in his scent deeply. She would never tire of this… of being held by him, of feeling his heart beating against her chest.

She realized he had mumbled something into her hair. She pulled away from him and said, "What?"

He looked down at her, his arms around her waist, fingers interlocked at the base of her spine and grinned.

"I said, would you like to go out on a date with me tomorrow night?" he repeated.

Her face broke into a grin that felt like it would split her cheeks.

"Yes!" she exclaimed and they both laughed.

"I mean, yes," she said more calmly. "I would love to go out on a date with you."

"Great. 8 o'clock. I'll pick you up from here," he felt like jumping up and down with excitement, shouting from the rooftops that he was finally doing what he had dreamt of for as long as he could remember. Instead he settled for pulling her in for another searing kiss.

He took her breath away, he really did. Never had she kissed a man who knew just what to do to set alight every single nerve ending in her body. He kissed her like he had been kissing her for years, knowing exactly what made her go weak at the knees. Her heart rate sped up, her hands felt clammy as she kissed him back, their need for each other threatening to devour them in that moment.

He pulled back and rested his forehead against hers, breathing heavily.

"We have to stop," he whispered, his breath coming out in wisps of fog. "Or I am going to lose control and we are going to get arrested for public indecency."

Liza giggled softly as she felt just how turned on he was against her thigh.

"Tomorrow," she acceded.

"Tomorrow," he said, looking at her like he would devour her right then and there, making the breath go out of her.

She grinned at him weakly, feeling her knees starting to give way under his intense gaze. But she knew she wouldn't fall. She knew she would never fall. Not with his strong arms around her.


	19. Chapter 19

**A/N:** Welcome to the Bubble... Enjoy it - I intend to stretch it as long as I can to make up for the fact that we got drama way too soon in the actual season. And as always, thank you for your kind words and reviews and please let me know what you think of this chapter.

 **Warning:** It's going to get sexy from now on, so if you're squeamish about reading that stuff, I suggest you skip the next few chapters ;)

 **Disclaimer:** I don't own Younger, any of its characters or their scripts, dialogues and stories.

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Chapter 19

He watched her walk down the stairs outside the loft, and his breath caught in his throat. She looked almost ethereal as she came towards him, illuminated by the light behind her, smiling softly.

She was wearing a thick coat but she had kept it unbuttoned and he saw that she was wearing a deep brown coloured dress, silky and smooth, flowing over her body like a stream of melted chocolate. She was already tall but she wore heels tonight, which made her long legs look even longer, sexier. The dress plunged into a deep, enticing 'v' between her breasts and all he wanted to do was bend his head and trail warm kisses down that tantalising path. There were slits on either side of the dress, giving him tempting glimpses of that smooth flesh that he hoped to touch to his fill tonight.

But for now he stayed focused on her face, drowning in her beautiful brown eyes, getting lost in that intimate, soft smile that she seemed to reserve only for him, breathing in her exquisite fragrance which was an alluring mix of perfume, shampoo and something that was intrinsically her.

He cupped her face gently as she stopped in front of him, his thumb caressing her cheek.

"You look beautiful, Liza," he whispered.

And bending down, he gave her the softest kiss, rubbing her lips gently with his. Afraid to deepen it, afraid that if he did, he wouldn't be able to stop, that he would lose the battle with his heart which was thumping wildly and unashamedly at the promise of the night ahead.

Liza felt her knees go weak at the touch of his lips and she clutched his arms, afraid she would fall to the ground if she let go. His kiss was almost chaste but it sent a lick of fire burning through her. She bit back a moan because his eyes had turned to sapphire and they told her that if she made that sound, he would lose all control right here, right now.

He briefly pressed his forehead against hers, eyes closed, trying to calm his racing pulse. And then with a little grin, he slipped his hand under her coat and placed his arm around her waist, fingers briefly brushing over the little patch of exposed skin on the side, as he led her to the car.

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The journey to the bar was spent in near silence. The air in the car was crackling, electric. Knees were pressed against each other, hands intertwined, they needed every bit of contact they could get. Desire was coursing through their bodies and it overwhelmed them so much that no words could be spoken.

They were scared to look at each other… scared to let the other person see the ache, the want, the raw need in their eyes because one glance and they knew they would combust.

Charles brought their joined hands up to his lips and placed a tender kiss on her knuckles. Liza smiled as the gesture sent a shiver of pleasure down her spine.

"I hope you like where we're going tonight," Charles said a little shyly, his low voice breaking through the silence and sending the blood humming through her veins.

She loved this side of him… this soft, shy, almost vulnerable glimpse into his personality that she knew he guarded fiercely. The fact that he was so comfortable revealing it to her, despite all they had been through, touched her heart and made her want to hold him close, and assure him that she would never, ever knowingly cause him any pain, ever again.

She rubbed her thumb against the back of his hand, "I know I will."

And then she added softly, "If I'm with you, every place we go to will always be wonderful."

Their eyes found each other, sparkling with the promise of her words, trying not to let their minds race ahead to all the places they could go, _would_ go in all the time and life that stretched ahead of them. And they smiled at each other, intimately, knowingly, excitedly as the car pulled up to their destination.

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Liza watched him walk towards her, glass of whiskey in each hand. She forgot how to breathe as she took in his beautiful, almost god-like form… admiring the full length of his powerful physique - tall, broad, muscular, he was all man.

But his face, his face was soft, glowing with desire for her, kind, blue eyes that turned dark with lust and held the promise of a wild and thrilling ride every time they raked over her body.

Tonight he was unabashed, openly and hungrily staring at her, trying to touch every inch of her that he could in a public place – whether it was when he helped her with her coat at the door of the bar and his fingers lightly brushed the sides of her breasts, or when he gently stroked the exposed skin at her waist as he led her to their table, or when he pressed his thigh against hers as they sat side by side. Suddenly, he wasn't shy, he wasn't hesitant around her. He knew exactly what he wanted… he wanted her and he wasn't afraid to show it.

And all she could do was surrender – to his desire and hers.

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They chuckled at each other softly, a little awkwardly… they had both pictured this moment for so long that suddenly they weren't quite sure where to begin. The want and ache for each other was so palpable that the need for words took a backseat.

"The first time I saw you…" she began softly, "… you were wearing this beautiful navy suit. You looked so tall and important."

His breath hitched at the desire dripping from her every word. He took her hand under the table and caressed it with his thumb, unable to resist touching her for even a single second.

"The first time I saw _you_ ," he said, his voice low and husky as he felt an acute surge of longing course through him, "… you were eating lunch at your desk, and reading Look Homeward, Angel. And I thought… who does that?"

She melted at his words, she couldn't believe he remembered such minute details about their first encounter.

"I do," she said, her voice almost a whisper. And those two words sent a jolt of electricity straight through his body and he knew exactly why.

He had to summon every ounce of self-control he possessed not to crush her against him right then and there.

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One drink, two drinks, three drinks down… and they could feel the yearning, the ache, the longing build between them. One spark of a match and the charged air around them would explode. Everyone else in the bar had faded into oblivion. All they could see was each other, a haze of desire clouding their vision. They hadn't eaten anything but it was a different kind of hunger that they were feeling.

There came a point when he couldn't take it anymore, couldn't help leaning into her, his hand playing on her thigh, kissing her softly but in a manner that conveyed to her in no uncertain terms just how much he wanted her, _needed_ her and that he was slowly reaching the point of no return.

She could feel the heat emanating from him and her body responded to the urgency of his kiss. She ran her hand up his arm, stroking his cheek with her thumb.

"How about we get out of here?" she whispered against his lips, almost breathless with her own desire. And the words were music to his ears. He couldn't put down the money and hustle her out of there quick enough.

He willed his body to cooperate. To stay in control till they reached his townhouse. He forced himself to be satisfied with simply pressing his knee against hers in the car, with stroking the back of her hand with his fingers, with pressing chaste kisses to her lips periodically, holding back from pulling her in closer because he didn't trust himself to stop anything he started.

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He barely got his door unlocked and their coats off before pulling her in for a searing kiss. And she went to him, trustingly and openly, her arms around his neck, kissing him back with equal passion.

He pulled her up the stairs to his bedroom. He was well past the point of control now and before they could even reach his bedroom door, he had pulled her to him again, bodies flush against each other, his arms holding her tightly around the waist, lips descending over hers, kissing her more deeply and intimately than he had ever kissed her, than he had ever kissed _anyone_ before.

This time she didn't hold back, moaning into his mouth as she clutched his jacket, pulling him into her body, letting their combined yearning engulf her completely.

The low, guttural sounds emanating from her nearly sent him over the edge and he pulled away, briefly resting his forehead against hers as he tried to slow things down or it would be over even before it began. His lips couldn't stay parted from hers though and before long, his mouth was back on hers, kissing her, softly, then deeper, pulling her lower lip into his mouth, nipping at it gently as they pushed into his bedroom.

"We can't go back to how we were after this," she murmured huskily, running her hands down his arms.

"I hope not," he said, getting lost in her warm, brown eyes as he held her close.

He turned away from her briefly to shut the door, shed his blazer and turn on some soft music, and she immediately missed the heat of his body.

When he turned back around, she was standing on the opposite side of the room. He started towards her but the look in her eyes stopped him dead in his tracks. It was visceral, raw, primal… like she would strip him bare with just her eyes.

Without breaking eye contact she undid one earring, then the other and he was gone… just that innocent gesture sending all the blood out of his head and rushing downwards into his body.

He stood frozen, looking at her, his eyes raking hungrily over her body, breath hitching in anticipation, watching and waiting for her next move as he began to undo his cuffs. When her gaze didn't waver, he slowly began unbuttoning his shirt, almost like he was putting on a show for her. He could see her eyes drift over his chest and if possible, turn an even darker shade of brown and he couldn't help the little smirk that spread across his face.

When she reached behind her to undo her dress, he nearly lost all his senses. He felt maddened with desire watching the silky brown material slither off her and pool at her feet. His lungs were on fire as he struggled to breathe, staring at her standing in front of him, wearing only a lacy bra and panties - vulnerable, exposed, open, all for him… the way he had wanted her for as long as he could remember.

He unzipped and pushed down his pants, taking off his shoes as he watched her kick off her heels.

He knew the exact moment when she started feeling self-conscious under his hungry and possessive gaze… she began squirming, suddenly aware of just how naked and exposed she was, in more ways than one.

He quickly strode over to her, making her breath catch in her throat. Standing in front of her, tall, broad, bare-chested, he held her gaze. And with a look that set her entire body on fire, he slowly trailed one finger down her cheek, softly grazing the side of her neck, tracing a tantalising path down her chest, between her breasts, over her flat stomach, along the waistband of her panties, before trailing back up her waist and arm to cup her face.

His eyes held such devotion, such reverence, such longing, that she felt her vulnerabilities melt away as he rested his forehead against hers and whispered, "Liza… you are simply beautiful. And I am luckiest man on earth."

She swallowed the lump that had formed in her throat as he brought his lips to hers once more and pulled her body into his, flesh finally meeting flesh as they revelled in the feel of their skin against one other.

The heat between them built. His mouth kissed hers hungrily, possessively, the yearning of two years spilling over as his hands trailed down her body, touching every inch of her skin, palms stroking the smooth expanse of her back, fingers trailing over her waist and up, brushing against her breasts, before cupping her face and getting lost in her wavy hair.

He could feel the stirrings of a primal need in his chest, the need to have her, to hold her, to worship her… He reached behind her and unclasped her bra, sliding the straps down her arms and his eyes turned almost black with desire as he looked at her. She felt shy under his passionate gaze and stepped closer to him, arms going behind his back as she pressed her body into his, feeling his desire against hers.

He buried his face in her neck, nuzzling her softly. His fingers bunched in her hair gently as he tilted her head backwards and trailed kisses down the slender column of her throat, suckling at her collarbone as she dug her nails into his shoulders.

She was moaning unabashedly now, all her restraint stripped away, chest heaving with desire. She hooked her thumbs into his briefs and pushed them down his hips, eyes widening when she saw how aroused he was, his desire for her never more evident than now.

He held her hips and with his lips firmly on hers, tongue roaming her hot mouth, pushed her backwards gently till she fell into his bed. He climbed on top of her, careful not to crush her under his weight. He couldn't help but smile down at her, watching her come alive at his every touch, eyes burning with desire he knew was reflected in his.

He leant down and devoured her lips again, tongue probing her warm and accepting mouth. Her nails were raking down his back and he was sure he'd have welts in the morning. And really, he didn't mind her marking him as hers. His fevered kisses were building her up, every fibre of her being on fire as the longing between them grew more intense.

He trailed kisses down her body, as his fingers stroked every inch of her. When his mouth closed around her breast, she let out a low sound, emanating from somewhere deep within her throat that sent him wild with desire. He knew he wasn't going to last long… the sexual build-up of the past year was potent and he was completely intoxicated.

He moved back up over her, forcing her to look at him. He needed to see her face the first time he made love to her. He needed her to see his face, to see just how he felt about her, how he worshipped her.

With his blue eyes locked on her brown ones, he gripped her hips and lifted her slightly off the bed. Immediately, as though they had done this dozens of times, her legs wrapped around his waist. With one last kiss, he entered her slowly, both gasping at the sensation, at the sheer bliss of being joined together in the way they had wanted for so long.

He stayed still for a minute just drinking in the sight of her – flushed skin, mussed hair, breathing heavily, eyes half lidded with desire. And then he began to move, slowly at first but that didn't last long. His desire and want for her was overwhelming him and before he knew it, they were both moaning loudly as the pace became more frantic.

He leaned down and captured her mouth with his, swallowing her cries of pleasure as he took her right over the edge, before falling over with her.

And in that moment, as she saw stars burst behind her eyes, Liza knew she was complete.


	20. Chapter 20

**A/N:** As we continue to stay in the Bubble, this chapter is the continuation of their first night together. Like I said, I intend to stretch the bubble as long as I can to make up for the fact that we got drama way too soon in the actual season. As always, thank you for your kind words and reviews and please let me know what you think of this chapter.

 **Warning:** Plenty of sexy time in this chapter, so if you're squeamish about reading that stuff, I suggest you skip the next few chapters ;)

 **Disclaimer:** I don't own Younger, any of its characters or their scripts, dialogues and stories.

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Chapter 20

The next time she woke, it was almost dawn. Liza lay on her side, facing the window, Charles spooning her, his arm around her waist, nose buried in her hair. She fit into the nook of his body so perfectly, as though she was made just for him.

She could feel his steady breathing behind her as she looked out of the window at the gently falling snow. Memories of last night came flooding back… the kisses, the caresses, the sighs, the inability to keep their hands off each other, at the bar and then at his house. The way he had made love to her, again and again, soft, slow and sensual at first, and then hungry, hard and possessive, ravishing her body over and over till she saw stars.

She sighed contentedly, and gently stroked his arm, wriggling into his warmth, a soft smile spreading across her face.

' _There's no place else I would rather be'_ , she thought.

She felt him stir behind her, his arm tightening around her waist, pulling her further into his body. He nuzzled her hair and his fingers began tracing patterns on her belly, tickling her a little but also sending pleasurable jolts down into the pit of her stomach.

She turned to look at him over her shoulder. "Hey," she smiled softly.

He leaned down and kissed her, rubbing his lips slowly against hers, tasting her, revelling in her closeness. "Hey yourself," he whispered against her mouth.

"It's beautiful outside," she said, nodding towards the window where the snow was falling quite heavily now against the still dark grey sky.

He gazed deeply into her eyes, drowning in the warm brown pools of her pupils that shone with a mix of love, comfort, happiness and desire. His heart thumped loudly, threatening to burst out of his chest with affection for her.

"Not as beautiful as it is in here," he said huskily, before capturing her lips with his.

His thirst for her was unquenchable. He had waited so long for this, for her. And now that he had her, he didn't want to waste a single precious moment.

His hand inched down her stomach and gently between her legs as he began peppering soft kisses down the side of her neck. She gasped as his fingers began to move, sending ripples of pleasure soaring through her as he touched her intimately, deeply, playing her like a piano. She wound her arm around his neck, pulling his head down. His tongue probed her lips and she allowed him in, moaning deep into his mouth.

Their kisses got more frantic, sloppier and wetter as his fingers picked up pace. Soon she was bucking into him and he almost lost it when he felt her rub against his groin. His fingers continued their ministrations as he brought her right to the edge, holding her there for a brief beautiful moment, before sending her over, swallowing her cries of pleasure with his mouth.

As she came down from her high, she turned to face him, placing her hands on either side of his face and pulling him in for a kiss. They took pleasure in each other, lazily, languidly, kisses falling soft and gentle, lips rubbing against lips, tongues mating softly before growing frantic again as he felt his need for her grow.

Liza could feel his want and his desire as she pressed her body flush against his. And when she rocked her hips into his, she was rewarded with a low, guttural sound. She kissed him deeply, holding his arms as she flipped him onto his back and climbed over him.

Charles revelled in the weight of her on top of him as he let her lead the way, happy to have her be in control. She straddled him, gently rubbing against his arousal and his back arched with pleasure. It was a measure of his self-control that he didn't fall apart right then and there. He did however have to still her grinding hips with his hands or it would all be over before it even began. She grinned as she watched him struggle to control his desire. She leaned over him, lips hovering over his.

He tried to lean up to capture her mouth with his, but she pulled back with a teasing grin. He moaned, flopping back onto the pillow as she ground down against him again.

"Liza," he groaned, "you're going to kill me here."

She chuckled softly and bent down again, her wavy hair cascading around his face as she kissed him deeply, running her tongue over his lips.

"But what a way to go," she whispered against his mouth, as she shifted just slightly so that he slipped inside her, both gasping together at the sensation. She sat up over him, rocking gently as he grabbed her hips, setting a comfortable rhythm that sent shockwaves of pleasure through them. He couldn't help but stare at her, eyes dark and burning with desire, as she loomed over him, head bent backwards, hair wild, palms flat, fingers splayed on his chest as she moved above him. She was moaning with every motion… and it was wanton, it was thrilling, it was sexy as hell. He could feel her tightening around him and he knew she was close. He gripped her hips tighter and rocked up into her, picking up the pace. And with each other's names on their lips, they went over the edge together as wave after wave of pleasure washed over them.

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An hour later, Charles was jolted awake by the unwelcome sound of his alarm. Groaning, he leaned over to shut it off. Liza stirred against his chest, burying deeper into him as he tightened his arms around her and breathed in her scent. She was soft and warm against him. He was afraid to move and break the magic of the moment, of her, half asleep on his chest, her head on his heart, legs tangled together as he softly stroked her hair.

"Is it time to get up?" she mumbled sleepily.

"Yeah," he said regretfully. "I have a flight to Florida to catch."

"Mmmm… Okay. We should get up then," muttered Liza, neither making a move as he continued to comb his fingers through her hair.

"Are we up yet?" she mumbled into his chest a few moments later.

He chuckled and kissed the top of her head, "No, we're not. But I think we really need to be."

"You're right. We really need to be," she nodded against his skin, as she began to trace lazy patterns around his hip, hovering dangerously close to his growing arousal.

"Liza," he groaned, grabbing her fingers, "If you start that now, we are never going to make it out of this bed and I am going to miss that flight."

She giggled softly and laced her fingers with his. "Okay, okay. I promise I'll be good."

Then, rolling off him, she flung herself back onto the pillows and said, "Go have a shower while I get 5 more minutes of shut eye. Then I'll quickly change and we can leave."

With a nod and a quick kiss, Charles got out of bed, wincing as his sore muscles protested at the movement. He wasn't unfit but his body wasn't used to the level of activity it got last night.

As he stood up to head to the bathroom, he turned to look at Liza – lying in his bed, eyes closed, hair rumpled, breathing softly, the blankets barely covering her body, showing him enticing patches of skin that made him want to climb on top of her and kiss every bit of that exposed flesh, till she made that low, sexy sound he'd coaxed out of her all night. He groaned audibly and shook his head as he mustered every bit of self-control he had to tear himself away.

' _This woman is going to be the death of me. And I'm going to love every minute of it,'_ he thought, grinning as he shut the bathroom door.

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They held hands for the entire journey to Brooklyn, fingers interlaced, thighs pressed together. Both afraid to break contact, needing the feel and warmth of each other before they were forced to part.

Never had a car ride seemed so short and before they knew it, they'd pulled up in front of Maggie's loft. Reluctantly, they disentangled their hands as Charles got out of the car, holding the door open for her.

They gravitated towards each other the minute Liza stepped out, unable to keep apart. He wound his arms around her waist and pulled her to him.

She sighed as she looked up at him, raising her hand to stroke his cheek.

He closed his eyes briefly, revelling in her soft touch, knowing how much he was going to miss her over the next few days.

"I'll call you Christmas Eve," he whispered as he nuzzled her, brushing his lips softly against hers.

"If you can," she said, holding him close, "I know you have the girls."

He rested his forehead against hers, "And I'll see you in 10 days."

She gripped his arms as he held her as close to him as he could. There was so much she wanted to say. She wanted to tell him not to go. She wanted to tell him that now that she'd been with him once, she needed to be with him every night. She wanted to tell him that without his arms around her she would feel cold despite her warm bed. And she wanted to tell him that he completed her in a way that made her feel wonderfully whole for the first time in her life.

Instead she settled for, "Safe trip."

But as she gazed up at him, she knew she didn't need to say anything else. As had always been the case with them, he could read her like an open book.

He bent down, hovering achingly close to her lips for a few seconds before capturing her mouth with his. She grabbed his arms and pulled him into her body as he deepened the kiss.

But all too soon he moved away and she felt a loss like never before.

With one last look at her, Charles climbed into the car. She raised her hand as the car sped away, willing herself to head upstairs.

Her phone buzzed in her pocket. She broke into a grin as she read the text.

 _[Charles]: I miss you already_

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Liza entered the loft and found Maggie making breakfast. As the smell of frying bacon and eggs wafted up her nostrils, she realised how ravenous she was.

"Well, now," grinned Maggie, giving her a once over, "I haven't seen you glow like this in all the decades I've known you."

Liza blushed. "Is there breakfast for me?" she quickly changed the subject.

"You have to sing for your supper around here missy," chuckled Maggie, waving a spatula at her. "I need details."

Liza laughed and shook her head, heading to her bedroom to change.

"Did he live up to the fantasy?" Maggie called out to her retreating figure.

Liza turned back at the door and flashed her a cheeky grin. "He far surpassed it," she said before ducking into her bedroom with a chuckle.

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Having eaten an enormous breakfast and changed into comfortable sweats and an oversized t-shirt, Liza lay back in bed and picked up her phone.

 _Why, darling, I don't live at all when I'm not with you,_ she typed, smiling softly, knowing that he would identify the Hemingway quote right away.

Charles sat waiting to board his flight when his phone buzzed. A goofy grin spread across his face as he read her message.

He could still picture her from last night – under him, above him, coming to life at his touch, moaning his name again and again. He shifted awkwardly in his seat as the blood started rushing south.

With all those images of her playing in his mind, he began typing.

 _[Charles]_ _He knew that when he kissed this girl, and forever wed his unutterable visions to her perishable breath, his mind would never romp again like the mind of God. So he waited, listening for a moment longer to the tuning-fork that had been struck upon a star. Then he kissed her. At his lips' touch she blossomed for him like a flower and the incarnation was complete._

Liza felt a shiver run down her spine as she read his text. This was one of her favourite Fitzgerald quotes and the fact that he knew it from memory made her heart swell till it felt like it would burst out of her chest with ache and desire for him.

' _How am I going to survive 10 days?'_ she wondered.

Her phone pinged again.

 _[Charles] Boarding now. I'll text you when I land. And Liza… all I can see in my mind is you, lying naked in my arms. And all I can hear is you, moaning my name in my ear. This is going to be a VERY uncomfortable flight and a miserable 10 days without you._

Liza giggled, picturing him hot under the collar, trying to keep it together while surrounded by other passengers. With a cheeky grin on her face, she began typing.

 _[Liza] Well… there's always phone sex. I may not be in my twenties or great at sexting but I bet I can give you some pleasurable nights over the next 10 days with plenty of aforementioned moaning, as loudly as you'd like._

Charles almost dropped his phone when her message flashed on the screen. He squeezed his eyes shut as he tried to regain control. She was truly going to be the death of him.

 _I look forward to it,_ he typed quickly before switching his phone off as the plane started to move. His brain felt strangely devoid of blood as he settled back into his seat with a sigh. This was going to be the most difficult flight of his life.


	21. Chapter 21

**A/N:** 'The Bubble' continues... We're picking up where we left off - I'm going to flesh out the 10 days Charles and Liza spent apart. So we begin with Day 1 i.e. the day after the 'big' night and after he dropped her off at the loft. This chapter goes up till Christmas Day. The rest of the 10 days will be in the next chapter. The story is now going in its own direction and I am happy to travel where it leads me. I hope you guys enjoy reading it as much as I am loving writing it. As always, thank you for your kind words and reviews and please let me know what you think of this chapter.

 **Disclaimer:** I don't own Younger, any of its characters or their scripts, dialogues and stories.

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Chapter 21

 **Day 1 (December 23)**

 _[Charles] Landed. Going to collect luggage. The girls are coming with their grandparents to pick me up. Will text you once I reach the house. Didn't get a wink of sleep on the flight. I miss you._

Liza smiled widely as soon as her phone buzzed. She was still in bed, lounging in her sweats, too lazy to move. There was a pleasant soreness in her muscles and every painful movement brought back a delicious memory from the previous night.

 _[Liza] I haven't slept either. I miss you too. So much._

And then because she was feeling bold and confident and a little bit sexy… and because her gloriously aching body missed him so much, she typed another message.

 _[Liza] I'm going to hop in the shower. Maybe sometime soon, we can have a little shower adventure of our own._

xoxoxoxoxoxoxo

It was a while before he read her text. He had ducked into his room to drop his bags, a difficult feat given how excited his girls were to see him.

He quickly grabbed his phone and felt his mouth go dry when he saw her message. Visions of Liza, naked in the shower, flooded his brain… having her up against the shower wall, eliciting those low throaty moans from her as hot water cascaded around them, trailing kisses down her body till he hit the spot that made her convulse with pleasure, again and again.

He groaned softly and shook his head as all the blood in his body travelled south. Thank God he was alone in his room.

 _[Charles] If you're trying to slowly and torturously kill me, it's working._

Liza grinned when she read his text, imagining him squirming as he tried not to get turned on. But his next message wiped the grin right off her face and sent a jolt of electricity straight through her body.

 _[Charles] And Liza… when I get you in my shower, I promise it'll be worth your while._

xoxoxoxoxoxoxo

Charles didn't get a chance to text her for the rest of the day. The girls had waited for him to get there to decorate the tree and the entire day had gone in putting up tinsel, baubles, candy cane and lights.

His daughters chattered with him endlessly and he revelled in their little joys, their excitement, in being able to spend time with them. It even made being around Pauline bearable, though he made a conscious effort to avoid her.

He couldn't wait to get back to his room that night and after tucking the girls in, reading them their bedtime story and kissing them goodnight, he was excited to climb into bed and dial Liza. He had told her he'd call Christmas Eve but he couldn't help himself.

"Hey you," she said softly, picking up on the first ring and a thrill coursed through his body at the sound of her voice. He hadn't realised how much he'd missed hearing it.

"Hey yourself," he said, squeezing his eyes shut, his heart filling with desire and longing for her. "I missed you all day."

Liza smiled. A warm tingly feeling spread through her body as she listened to his low, husky voice.

"I missed you too," she said. "I bet the girls were thrilled to see you."

"They were," he replied, shifting to a more comfortable position. "Though I wish I had _all_ my girls here with me."

Liza blushed when she realised what he meant. She was one of 'his girls' and she couldn't stop grinning at the thought.

"I'm not much of a girl," she said teasingly. "Or did you forget that I'm not 26?"

It was a mark of how far they had come, of the complete acceptance on Charles' part of Liza's past, her lie and the reason behind it, that she felt comfortable enough to joke about it.

Charles grinned.

"Oh I remember… I remember very well." The desire in his voice making Liza quiver with delight. "You are all woman, Liza. _My_ woman," he said huskily.

Liza felt heat pool in her belly and a low moan escaped her.

"Dear god, Liza," Charles muttered, feeling himself grow painfully aroused, "That sound will be my undoing right here, right now."

Liza laughed and the sound went straight to Charles' heart.

"Okay, I promise. No more moaning for tonight because we both need our rest," she acceded. "Tell me about the girls and the rest of your day."

Charles felt a wave of affection for her, for the fact that she was interested in his day, in his girls, in his life. That she laughed with genuine delight when he told her the funny stories his daughters told him. That she made him describe the Christmas tree in great detail. That she wanted to know about every moment that he was spending away from her.

They talked endlessly, till the conversation slowly ceased, and they both fell asleep, phones pressed to their ears, lulled into their dreams by the sounds of each other breathing.

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 **Day 2 (Christmas Eve)**

 _[Charles] I miss you deeply, unfathomably, senselessly, terribly._

The sound of her phone buzzing had woken her up. And after reading the beautiful Kafka quote Charles had sent, she hadn't stopped grinning all morning. She knew she needed to keep busy or she was going to miss him and be miserable and mopey all day.

She planned to finish all her remaining homemade Christmas presents during the day, including the one she was making for Charles. She had decided to make something for his girls too and needed to go buy the wool for it.

Then she was going to help Maggie prepare their Christmas meal for the next day. Caitlin, Maggie and she were having an early Christmas Eve dinner tonight because Caitlin had a party to go to after. And then would come her favourite time of the day – the phone call from Charles.

She laughed at her foolishness… she was acting like a love struck teenager waiting for a call from her boyfriend. But that's how she felt nowadays… giddy, like she was floating in the air, heart happy, soul singing.

xoxoxoxoxoxoxo

It was late by the time he called, and she could tell by his voice that something was wrong.

"Hey," she said softly, not wanting to push him. Knowing that if she did, he would withdraw. "I missed you. So much."

Without waiting for him to reply, she continued, "It's snowing here today and it reminded me of our night together. And all I've wished all day is for you to have been here with me so I could stay snuggled in bed with you, reading, kissing, cuddling and watching the snow."

She instinctively knew this was what he needed. That he'd tell her what was bothering her, she just needed to be patient.

Charles closed his eyes. Her soothing, soft voice was like a balm for his soul after the evening he'd had. He wished she was lying next to him, wished he could bury his face in her soft body and feel her warm, comforting arms around him.

He sighed. "Pauline ruined Christmas Eve," he said softly, willing himself not to shut down. To talk to Liza. He knew if he did, she would make him feel better.

"What happened?" she probed gently.

Charles rubbed his eyes tiredly. "We were having a nice evening, the girls were happy. They had opened one present each… a Christmas Eve tradition of ours," his voice trailed off.

Liza kept quiet, giving him a minute to gather his thoughts. She could hear the anger reverberate in his voice when he spoke next.

"And then Pauline started telling them about how this Christmas would be the last we would all be together. And how from now they would have to choose who to spend Christmas with," he gritted his teeth, rage coursing through him at his ex-wife.

Liza's heart went out to his daughters, and to him. But she wanted to let him get it all out so she stayed silent.

"The girls started crying and so their grandparents carted them off to bed. And then Pauline and I had a big showdown," his voice broke as he remembered his girls' faces, crumpled with sadness, tears rolling down their cheeks. His heart hurt.

"How could she do that to them Liza?" he asked, his voice constricted with sadness. "Her own daughters?"

Liza didn't know what to say. A silent tear rolled down her cheek as she heard the pain in his voice. And all she wished was to be next to him, to hold him, to kiss him, to comfort him.

She gathered herself, she knew she needed to be strong for him.

"Charles," she finally said softly. "It's going to be okay."

She wanted nothing more than to kiss away his pain. And she felt so helpless, so far away from him.

"They're good, strong little girls. They have a father who loves them so very much. And they know that. Anything they face in life… your love will get them through it."

She heard his breath even out and she knew she needed to keep talking. She adjusted the pillow behind her back and leaned back.

"I know you might not want to hear this right now… but Pauline loves them too. She's just… she's hurting, Charles. And while I don't agree with her putting the girls in between whatever is going on with her and you, she's coming from a place of deep pain."

Charles sighed deeply. It amazed him just how easily Liza could soothe him, how she could magically just take away all his tiredness, his pain with just her words and the sound of her warm, loving voice. He couldn't fathom how he got lucky enough to find her.

"Thank you, Liza," he said, his voice a little hoarse. He cleared his throat. "I…"

"Charles," Liza cut in. "You never _ever_ have to thank me."

A smile spread across his face. Almost as though Liza could sense it through the phone, she smiled softly too.

"I know what it's like, Charles… to go through a divorce, to separate from someone to whom you've given the best part of your life to, and to have a child caught in the middle of it all. I was lucky that Caitlin was older and it was easier to explain it to her but it hurt her nonetheless."

Charles listened to her silently, his heart aching for his girls but also now for her. They hadn't discussed David except the night they had coffee after he'd told her he didn't care anymore about her lie.

"You never want to hurt those you love, least of all your children," she continued softly, remember those awful days when Caitlin would refuse to talk to her and David alternatively, depending on who she was mad at on the day. "But sometimes, there's no alternative."

Charles exhaled softly. Everything she said was exactly how he was feeling. It was like she was reading his heart like a book.

"All you can do, Charles, is love them, be there for them," said Liza.

Charles rubbed his hand over his face.

"How do you do it, Liza?" he asked softly.

"Do what?" she asked, confused.

"Know exactly what to say to make it all better."

Liza smiled.

"Invisible threads are the strongest ties," she said.

Charles felt like his heart would burst. Just when he thought she couldn't be more perfect, she proved him wrong.

"Liza, I…" he started when suddenly he heard a soft cry in the distance.

"Uh… sorry. I think Nicole is calling out to me."

"Go, Charles," said Liza quickly. "And remember, those girls love you, no matter what."

Charles swallowed the lump that had formed in throat. He wanted to say so much to her but Nicole was starting to sound frantic.

"Thank you, Liza," he said quickly. "For everything. I'll call you tomorrow."

"Good night, Charles," she said.

"Oh and Liza…" he said as he opened the door and went out into the hallway. "Merry Christmas."

xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo

Charles crept into the girls' bedroom and felt his way in the darkness to Nicole's bed.

"Shhh… shhhh, honey," he said as he sat down next to his daughter and pulled her to him. He was scared that her cries had woken Bianca. But the steady breathing coming from the other bed reassured him. His younger one slept like a giant.

"What's wrong, baby?" he asked as he rocked Nicole gently, rubbing her back.

"I had a bad dream," she mumbled, her voice muffled as she buried her face in his chest.

Charles could kill Pauline with his bare hands for this. He squeezed his eyes shut and willed himself to calm down.

"It's over now, baby," he said as he leaned back, trying to fit his long frame into a very small bed. "I'm here."

Nicole snuggled deeper into him and he could feel her relax.

"I have an idea," Charles whispered. "What if tomorrow you, Bianca and I FaceTime Liza?"

Nicole sat up and grinned at him.

"Really daddy?" she said loudly.

"Shhh," he said, grinning as he pulled her back to him.

"Yeah," he said. "I bet she's missing you guys."

"We're missing her too," replied Nicole. "Can we show her our tree?"

"Anything you want, baby," said Charles as he settled into the much too tiny bed, knowing that this was where he was going to end up sleeping tonight.

"Anything you want."

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

 **Day 3 (Christmas Day)**

Liza awoke to the delicious fragrance of Christmas ham wafting into her room. She wriggled her toes as she stretched under her warm blanket and instinctively reached for her phone.

She could feel herself grinning widely when she saw a message from him.

 _[Charles] The girls (and their dad) would like to FaceTime you this morning to show off our Christmas tree. Would 11 am work for you?_

She quickly texted back.

 _[Liza] Tell the girls that 11 am would be absolutely fine and that I am greatly looking forward to seeing them (and maybe their very handsome dad too)_

As Liza swung out of bed, she felt like she was floating. She was giddy at the thought of seeing Charles. It had been just 3 days but she was missing him more than she had thought she would. And she was excited to chat with the girls too. Her heart had broken at the miserable Christmas Eve they'd had and she couldn't wait to see their cute little faces and hopefully make them feel better.

She quickly showered and had a light breakfast with Maggie and a severely hungover Caitlin. Caitlin and Maggie were dropping in at Inkburg in the morning for Caitlin to see the work Josh had done on it, so as 11 am rolled around, Liza had the apartment to herself.

She was besides herself with excitement and when her phone began to ring she could barely sit still.

She smoothed her hair as she pressed the answer button and a grin spread across her face as she saw two tiny, eager faces really close to the screen.

"LIZA!" screamed Nicole and and Bianca in unison.

Liza laughed.

"Two of my most favourite girls in the whole world," said Liza, grinning as Nicole tried to elbow Bianca out of the frame, only to be shoved back by her younger sister.

"Merry Christmas!" screamed the girls and Liza couldn't help but laugh loudly at their enthusiasm.

"Merry Christmas sweethearts," she said, wishing she could hug them. She had missed them more than she had thought.

She wondered where Charles was but she figured he was letting the girls get in as much time as they could with her and she loved him just a little bit more for that.

"So, I believe you guys have a fabulous Christmas tree for me to see," said Liza.

"We do!" exclaimed Bianca as she grabbed the iPad from her sister and turned it towards their tree all covered with tinsel and twinkling lights.

"Isn't it beautiful Liza?" asked Nicole as she grabbed the iPad from Bianca, making the picture shake and Liza feel a little queasy.

"That is the best decorated tree I have ever seen," she said. "Surely, you girls didn't do all that by yourselves?"

"We did!" they said together.

Liza laughed. "Well, you girls did an amazing job! Would you like to see my tree?"

"YES!"

Liza turned her phone towards the tree, walking closer to it to show them the baubels, the little Santa figures, the lights.

"That's beautiful, Liza," gushed Nicole.

"Thanks girls," said Liza, bending down and picking up two brightly wrapped packages.

"Guess who these are for?"

"For us?" exclaimed Nicole. "Present for us?" she asked as Bianca squealed in the background.

Liza laughed. "Yes, you little munchkins. Presents for you two. Ready and waiting for when you return."

"Daddyyyyyy," Bianca's voice had taken on a whiny tone. "When are we going back to Liza?"

Liza's heart skipped a beat as she heard Charles' deep voice break through the babble somewhere in the background to say "Soon, baby. Very soon."

The girls chattered on with Liza for a little while, showing her all the presents under the tree, the stockings on the mantle, the lights strung up on the tree before thrusting the iPad into Charles' hands as they darted off when the doorbell rang.

"Hello you," said Charles softly, taking in Liza's beautiful face, looking back him, bemused and confused.

"Hello yourself," she whispered, suddenly overcome with a strong wave of desire at seeing his face. This was the first time they had come face to face, in a manner of speaking, since their night together.

Charles walked out onto the back porch.

"I missed you," he said. His heart clenched with desire. He hadn't realise how much he had missed her. The sight of her face on his iPad, the sound of her voice… it was almost too much to take.

Liza smiled. "I missed you too."

They just stared at each other in silence for a moment or two, taking each other in. The closeness of their faces on the screens but the physical distance so far from each other.

Charles broke the silence, clearing his throat. "So, uh… how come the house is empty? Where are Caitlin and Maggie?"

"Out," said Liza, breaking out of her trance. "They went to see Inkburg."

"Inkburg?"

"Josh's tattoo place."

"Ah… You didn't want to go with them?"

Liza heard the brief hesitation in his voice. The little note of uncertainty that made her fall for him even further. The slight change in his expression that showed her just how vulnerable he felt.

"I'd rather be here," she said simply.

Charles couldn't help the broad grin that spread across his face. The excited chatter behind him grew louder.

"I think the girls are ready for Christmas lunch," laughed Liza.

Charles grinned back. "Yeah I think they are."

"Merry Christmas, Liza," said Charles, not wanting to disconnect.

"Merry Christmas, Charles," said Liza smiling

"Talk tonight?"

"Of course."


End file.
